


Crossing Borders

by idjit_666



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Go Scottis, Horace was born and raised in a Scotti Clan, Picta, Scotti
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 113,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idjit_666/pseuds/idjit_666
Summary: Horace Altman was born in raised in the McAngus Clan in Picta, the long standing enemy of Araluen. After a brutal war that has almost crippled the McAngus clan, Horace is sent to Araluen to keep the peace between the McAngus clan, the other clans, and Araluen.While in Araluen, Horace meets some unexpected friends and maybe realized that Araluen isn't all that bad.
Relationships: Horace Altman & Will Treaty, Horace Altman/Cassandra | Evanlyn, Pauline duLacy/Halt O'Carrick, Will Treaty/Alyss Mainwaring
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Picta was cold in the winter. Snow piled along the makeshift streets and salt caked the bottom of Horace’s boots as he trudged through the camp. Tents were propped up almost at random. Shambling figures appeared and seemingly disappeared as they passed through from tent to tent. They looked haggard, worn down and in pain. Horace felt that. They’d been at war with Araluen for months, nearly a year. 

Horace hadn’t been home since the beginning of the war. He was beaten and bruised. His limbs ached in the morning despite being in the prime of his youth. He shouldn’t be in this much pain in his twenties. He could barely make it through the day on what little sleep he got. Most of his nights were taken up by nightmares.

Neither side was gaining any ground and each were losing more and more men. Horace never really saw the same face twice. Men fell and more came from the north. But less came each time. Resources were dwindling. Horace couldn’t even imagine the strain that ordinary citizens were under. 

The war needed to stop. 

Picta was never going to gain territory in Araluen and Horace was sure that the generals knew that too, they were just too stubborn to admit it. A very common trait in Picta. 

It was up to Horace to do something. For his men. 

“Colonel Altman. Whatever is the pleasure that brought you here?” General McKentick asked, welcoming Horace into his tent. Horace nervously ran his through his dark cropped hair as he looked around the tent. 

It was rather barren, unlike McKentick’s home back Shal. McKentick told Horace once that he did not deserve to live above his fellow soldiers while at war. That in times of war, they were all equal. This is why Horace went to McKentick. He was one of the kinder generals, one who’d listen to reason. If Horace was going to end the war somehow, the most likely avenue was McKentick. If Horace convinced McKentick then he could take this to Warlord McAngus to bring to the council of Warmaidens. The war could stop. 

“Bad news unfortunately.” Horace sighed, gripping his sword nervously. He always hated telling McKentick bad news. 

“Oh?” McKentick’s eyebrow as he poured Horace a glass of whiskey. Horace took it out of respect but did not drink it. He needed a clear head. 

“General McAgnew’s forces tried to push past the One Raven’s Pass. Archers led by one of those Rangers took them down.” Horace put down a black shafted arrow on the table. McKentick’s face darkened when he saw the arrow. “He’s dead and we’re severely crippled on our left side. We don’t have enough men to secure the left flank.” 

Horace waited patiently as McKentick let out a slew of curses. “Damn that fool of a man. Always been too arrogant.” 

“Sir, if I may speak frankly?” Horace asked. McKentick might have raised Horace, but he still needed to treat him with the respect that a general deserved. 

“Go for it.” McKentick waved a hand dismissively. 

Horace squeezed his sword for comfort. “We’re losing. There is no way that we can win this war. We don’t have the resources or the men. And the men we do have are failing. They’re injured and tired. I don’t know the Araluen’s numbers but their archers are still going strong. If we keep going at this pace, the McAngus clan, and probably others, will be wiped from history.” 

McKentick frowned, considering what Horace was saying. “But what about MacHaddish? Did he not capture Macindaw with the help of that traitor? Do we not have that foothold in Araluen?” 

Horace pulled out a small roll of parchment and tossed it onto the table. “Harris was sent this from one of MacHaddish’s men. He and the Araluen traitor were captured by a ranger leading a handful of Skandians, apparently a sorcerer and his minions, and a captured courier.” 

If Araluen didn’t have their damned Rangers then the Scotti would have won the war by now. Horace wouldn’t be here, he’d be back home with Isla. That’s if she still wanted him and haven’t moved on with someone else. 

“Buffoon,” McKentick snarled. 

Horace low-key agreed, but he couldn’t get distracted. He still had a mission. “I loathe to think about this, sir, but we can’t surrender. We need to do something.” 

McKentick was unusually still as he thought about surrendering. “I see what you’re saying. I will speak with Warlord Agnus.” MacKentick sighed. “I hate this.” 

“I’m sorry put this on your shoulders, sir, but I wasn’t sure whom else I could go to. We’re dying, Sir.” 

“No, I thank you. Generals cannot afford to bury their heads in the snow. We need to face the facts. Go. Check on your men and get some rest. I’ll get back to you when I have news.” 

“Yes sir.” Horace bowed and left the tent. 

There was an unsettling feeling at the bottom of his stomach. This was not going to end well for Horace. It was somehow going to come back and bite him in the ass. 

Horace shook his head and headed to where his men were stationed. As he walked into the semi-circle of propped-up tents, eyes followed him. Horace stopped by the communal fire pit, which was always kept alight. “What is our next assignment?” Kian asked, as Horace approached them. He looked exhausted, slumped over. 

“Currently? Inspection. Bring out your weapons and armour,” Horace ordered. He felt terrible for ordering them but they needed to stay in form. 

There was a dull scramble to be presentable. Horace sighed as he watched the beaten forms of his men, once bright and excited to see the front lines, now just feeling grey. Grey like the cloudy winter days. This place just seeped the colour out of everything. 

One thing that Horace was proud of: despite the hardships that his men went through, they still took pride in taking care of their weapons. 

Horace slowly inspected all of them and then dismissed them for the night. 

“Colonel Altman, how may I help you?” Harris snapped to attention as Horace approached his station. The pigeon home? Coop? Nest? Whatever it was called, it was one of the only permanent buildings out here. Harris has been here from the start and well since his pigeons did a lot of work, and that was recognized by the generals, there had been some labour diverted to make the pigeon coop permanent. The only other fairly permanent structure was the mess hall. 

“Have there been any messages for me?” Horace asked. 

He didn’t want to get his hopes up that Isla sent him something. There was tension in the messages. They became short and they didn’t feel the same as they were at the beginning of the war. Horace hadn’t seen Isla in a year. He missed her. 

“Sorry sir. Nothing.”

Horace shook his head in disappointment. He knew deep down, but there had been a kernel of hope. “Not your fault Harris. Keep up the good work but take care of yourself. There’s only one of you.” 

“Yes sir. I hope Isla sends you something soon.” 

“So do I.” Horace clapped Harris on the shoulder and left the pigeon’s coop. 

It started to … rain? Horace frowned and held out a hand. No, it was more like snow. Hail? Freezing rain? Either way, it sucked, and it made Horace’s day even worse. He trudged to the mess hall to get some food, to make himself feel better. 

***

Horace stared at the scene in front of him. The battle had been a costly one, on both sides. Bodies marked the grey of the drowned forest. The blue woad paint and the tartan that were the markings of a Scotti warrior stood out against the dull grey chainmail of the Araluen soldiers. Horace tried to block out the sounds of the dying as he struggled to get up.

His limbs ached as he slung his round buckler over his back. He couldn’t continue fighting like this.

There was a clattering of hooves and Horace looked up. Approaching him was McKentick. “General.” Horace saluted him. 

“Horace.” McKentick slid off his horse and embraced him. Horace was a little taken aback, but he accepted the embrace. McKentick’s face dropped as he looked around the destitute scene around him. “How many?” 

“Dead? Or alive?” Horace asked, sheathing his sword. 

“Either.” 

“Well, most of my platoon is either dead or seriously injured. I can’t say for the others.” Horace shook his head. 

McKentick looked ashy as he continued to survey the scene. Horace ignored his still figure and called over two of his sergeants. “Murray, Fraser, round up anyone who’s able and start getting the injured out of here. Both sides.” 

Horace was one of the few who wasn’t a fan of letting either of the sides’ men die. They were ordinary people. They didn’t deserve to die in this fashion. 

Murray and Fraser nodded and headed out. 

Horace closed his eyes and steeled himself for the upcoming images. It wasn’t going to be pleasant. Out of the corner of his eye, Horace something moving in the woods. He spun around and squinted. 

A second later Horace it again. A green outline. He saw the bow appear out of the woodwork. Ranger. Horace unslung his buckler and planted himself in front of McKentick. He’d seen how much of a backstabber Rangers can be. 

McKentick was a target. Horace wouldn’t put it past the Rangers to shoot him right here and now. 

“What’s wrong?” McKentick asked. 

“Ranger. Just at the edge of the woods.” Horace gritted through his teeth. Horace didn’t dare to take his eyes off of the shape. He’s heard the legends. In the blink of an eye, a Ranger could unleash a volley of arrows that could destroy an entire platoon. 

If it was Horace’s destiny to die protecting McKentick from a Ranger’s attack then he was fine with it. McKentick was more important than Horace. To the clan, to Isla, to Horace. 

He watched as the Ranger took a step back and then vanished into the dark wood. Horace didn’t want to put down his shield. Just because Horace couldn’t see where the Ranger went didn’t mean that the Ranger was gone. They were devils, having the ability to pass through shadows. 

“I think the Ranger is gone, Horace.” 

Horace hesitantly lowered his shield. “Lachlan, Kian, get from men from Murray and Fraser and scan the woods. I don’t want any surprises. You understand me?” 

“Yes sir.” They both echoed each other. Horace watched as they went into the forest. 

Horace turned to McKentick. “You can’t be here, sir. It’s too dangerous.” 

“Horace, I worked my way up from being a common soldier to a general. I have always refused to be one of those generals who stays away from the battlefield. I painted the target on my back and I will wear it proudly. Besides, if a Ranger wanted to kill me, they could do it at anytime they choose.” 

Horace sighed, rubbing his forehead after re-holstering his shield. “You have a point. Sorry, sir.” 

“Don’t be. Any general wishes that he has someone as devoted to him as you do to me. Now come on, let’s go help the wounded.” McKentick clapped Horace on the back and turned away from Horace. “Never understood why you are so willing to save the other soldiers.” 

These soldiers were good men, most likely ordinary men drafted into the war, and didn’t deserve to die, but no matter how many times Horace said that, no one believed him. They all thought that it was because of Horace’s heritage. That kingdom wasn’t his home. They betrayed Horace’s family and left them to die. 

Horace cleared his throat and hoisted a man over his shoulder. “We both come from the lines of ordinary people, sir. These men are like us. They are not the ones who decided to go to war with us and it is unfair that they are the ones to suffer and not the leaders.” 

McKentick smiled, albeit a little sadly. “You’re a good man, Horace. The world could use more men with your attitudes.” 

Horace blushed under the praise. He didn’t know what to say. As Horace passed the injured man over to someone else, he turned around and for the second time, he could feel eyes on him. Just this time, Horace couldn’t see who was looking.

It was unnerving.

***

McKentick found Horace sitting away from camp with a letter in his hands. Things were even worse then what Horace had thought. He knew that the war would put strain on him and Isla but he had hoped that they would have made it through. But it now it was confirmed. At the beginning, she would write him constantly. The small page crammed with her elegant writing, now it just didn’t cover the page. 

“I see that things with Isla have not been progressing well.” McKentick sat next to Horace with an audible groan. He sighed and rubbed his knee as Horace just continued to stare at the paper. He did not want to talk about his woes with Isla to her uncle. 

“You have news, sir?” Horace asked, sitting up and crumpling the page. He didn’t have to think about his failing relationship when he was failing at a war. 

“You’ve been promoted.” 

Horace’s head twisted around so fast it hurt. “Promoted?” 

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, son, but we’ve lost a fair amount of generals so far. You’re a solid candidate, son. With the care that you put in, I can’t see anyone else for the role.” McKentick nudged Horace and smirked. 

“It’s an honour, sir.” Horace couldn’t believe his luck. A general. He was going to be a general. 

“No more sirs, Horace. We have the same title now. And let me tell you, it won’t be such an honour when we’re sitting in a meeting with the Araluen generals.” 

“You’ve got a response?” Horace asked. 

McKentick nodded. “McAngus agrees. We’ve lost too many men. It’s not profitable for us to continue. Warmaiden NioLyall has gotten most of other Warmaidens on the council to agree. MacFrewin is not happy but at this point, we don’t care.” 

Horace made a face at the thought of MacFrewin. He was one of the more vicious warlords. One of the ones that gave the rest of the Scotti a bad name. 

McKentick snorted in amusement and clapped Horace on the shoulder. “You get used to the bitter taste. Now go put your paint on, and your least bloody kilt, and meet me by the stable in twenty.” 

“Yes sir, uh, McKentick.” Horace stood up and gave him a little bow. 

“You’re improving. I’ll take it.” McKentick shrugged. 

***

The ride to the meeting grounds was long and arduous. Horace hated every second that he needed to be on the horse. Wearing a kilt in the winter time killed his legs, actually everything lower than his chest. It was a little too breezy.

“Stop picking at the paint, Horace.” McKentick pulled Horace out of his revere. Horace squeaked in confusion. How’d he know? Horace tried his hardest not to touch it but there was just an urge. Not to mention, Horace was behind McKentick.

McKentick look over his shoulder with a grin. He had three lines of blue paint that ran from his forehead down to his mouth on his left side, and streak down his chin. Horace had the same markings on his face. It was different from what he had last time. He used have swirls along his temples and down his cheekbones. It was just the idea of having to do a new design. It was exciting and new. “I did that too when I first got the position. Don’t mess it up. McAngus won’t be happy.” 

“Yes, sir.” Horace winced at the word. He’d been training to stop himself. 

McKentick chuckled at his stumble. “You’re getting there.” 

Horace urged his horse forward, so he was next to McKentick. “So, what’s McAngus like?” He distantly knew McAngus but tried to avoid him as much as possible. He liked NioLyall though. She was always kind to her. 

“Honourable. To the point that it’s annoying. It’s how we ended up here, in the middle of a war. But he is a good man. I couldn’t ask for a better man to follow, but he has a temper to match.” McKentick shook his head fondly. “But be respectful. He will still put your ass down if you aren’t. Don’t think that you should have to worry about that. Seeing how you keep calling me sir.” 

“Sorry s—-” Horace caught himself at the last second. McKentick chuckled at Horace’s habit. 

“Here we are.” McKentick pulled into a gathering. Horace and the rest of the light cavalry that they had brought with them followed McKentick over to the small crowd of other Scotti’s waiting for them. 

Horace could mostly see an assortment of colonels and generals. There was bound to be foot soldiers hidden in the trees. Not like the Araluens would be ambushed by surprise. They were bound to bring Rangers and the Rrangers would see them. Oh well. Let them be scared into not attacking by sheer mass of men. 

That being said, Horace has heard the legends of Rangers. How two Rangers managed to fight off an invading force of skilled archers with a handful of Skandians and a bunch of free slaves. How just an apprentice took down Morgarath’s bridge and half of his forces. 

They were demons. Or sorcerers that sold their souls to demons for these powers. They couldn’t be trusted. 

“McKentick! So glad to have you join us. And is this our new general?” A man with intricate blue designs ran up and down his face, even going up onto his bald head. He had a faded red pointed beard with a moustache. He was sprawled out on a rock which looked like a makeshift throne with an easy smirk. He wore nothing but fur-lined boots and kilt. 

Horace looked at the other clan who had joined McAngus. The tartan was dark green with black strips and highlights of yellow and red. It was quite different to the McAngus tartan. Their tartan was dark blue and green with slivers of black and white thread ran through the fabric. 

This must be the MacArthur clan, a sister clan to McAngus. Actually, Horace wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure that McAngus’ sister was married to MacArthur. 

“Warlord McAngus. How are you not freezing?” McKentick slid off of his horse and embraced the man. Horace slid off of his horse and handed the reins to a soldier. Horace gave him a nod of thanks. Out of habit, he scanned the trees. Araluens were tricky. He wouldn’t put past them to attack without warning and put an arrow in McAngus’ back. 

“General Altman, what’s got your kilt in a twist?” Warlord McAngus asked. 

Horace drew his gaze from the trees and bowed to Warlord McAngus. “Sorry sir. Habit.” 

Warlord MacArthur rose an eyebrow at Horace. The man did not appear as dramatic as his brother. He wore a clean white shirt tucked into his kilt under a fur lined cloak. He gave Horace a nod of appreciation and crossed his arms under his cloak. 

Like his brother, MacArthur was _jacked_. McAngus was lean and fast but MacArthur was bulky. After a life time swinging his massive broadsword, Horace wouldn’t be surprised. 

Horace forgot that MacArthur couldn’t speak. His voice had been destroyed after an attack on his clan from the McFowlie clan several years before. 

Warlord McAngus rose an eyebrow. “Yes, I heard a lot about you, Altman. Especially your treatment towards the wounded Araluen soldiers. I wonder, is that because of your heritage?” 

Horace sighed, trying to unclench his jaw. “Maybe it is sir, but I just don’t see the point of continuing to attack a bunch of men who probably were just farmers. Imagine if it was our people. Would we want our enemy to treat our injured with compassion?” 

Warlord McAngus nodded. He looked over to MacArthur. MacArthur nodded back. “I see your point there, son.” 

“And if this war ends and we send back the men, then we’ll have a connection across the border. It might not be an alliance, but it’ll be better than enemies, and hopefully in the future there might not be such a rush to bloodshed.” 

“He’s a practical young man. I like him.” Warlord McAngus turned to the rest of the assembled men, pacing back and forth in the snow. 

Horace clenched his teeth to stop himself from shivering. It was so cold. He wished that he had his wool trousers. 

“I’ve been on the front lines since the beginning, sir. I’ve seen hundreds of faces come and go. I don’t want this to happen to anyone else.” Horace gave him a tired smile. 

“Horace has been a dedicated soldier. He speaks the truth.” 

“So I have you too thank to give me the courage to end this war?” 

“Yes sir.” Horace gripped his sword nervously. He wasn’t a fan of the way that Warlord McAngus stared at him. 

“Thank you, son.” Warlord McAngus turned away from Horace and went back to his throne. MacArthur and his generals murmured in agreement. Now, Horace didn’t feel as bad for asking McKentick to end this. “Now if those Araluens would show up, that’d be nice!” He yelled into the trees. 

Horace was half expecting for one of the Rangers to appear of the forest and cuss them out, or something. It was what he’d do. Horace paced back and forth in the snow. He didn’t like this waiting. The waiting before the battle was the worst part. The tension was palpable. 

The trees were dark and unmovable. Nothing stirred within them. Due to the war, all of the animals had been pushed away from these parts. No one wanted to get caught in the cross hairs of a war. Armies needed to be fed. This place has been over-hunted. It was destitute. 

Horace hated how miserable his home had become. 

Through the gap of the trees, shapes ambled out. Five men on horses came into the clearing. Two on battle horses that looked worn but well taken care of. The other three, that hung towards the back with strange shimmering cloaks, were on small shaggy horses that didn’t look like much. But if this war has taught Horace anything was that not to be fooled by appearances. 

“And who do we have the pleasure to be dealing with?” Warlord McAngus sauntered to his feet, his eyes trained on one of the richly dressed men. MacArthur snapped to attention, laying his hands on his broad sword that had been planted firmly in the ground. 

The two on the battle horses got off of their horses. One of them, with fading red hair, took the lead. “I’m sir. David of the Caraway fief, battle master to the King. This is Baron Theo of Norgate. We come to negotiate the end of this war,” Sir David said in the trader’s tongue. Horace wasn’t super fluent, but he could continue on. 

McAngus glared at Baron Theo for an unknown reason. Horace already felt uneasy.

His father had insisted on teaching Horace both Araluen and the trader’s tongue. Horace had never used it before. Guess he had something to finally thank his father for.

“There’s no negotiations. We outlined our terms. We just want this war to be over. It was a waste of time and men.” Warlord McAngus waved a hand. There was a flicker of sadness in his face for a second. MacArthur shook his head sadly. 

Horace eyed the three Rangers in the back. Their faces were blank. Sir David frowned and crossed his arms. “You do know that if we agree to these terms, you have to agree to ours. Are you prepared to give up one of your men?” 

What? Horace looked around the small circle. Everyone looked like they understood what Sir David was saying. Was Horace not the only one briefed about this? 

Warlord McAngus stared Sir David down, his mouth trembling. “I’m not daft. I do understand. But if this is what it takes for the bloodshed to end. Then I will do it.” 

Horace couldn’t figure out where this was going. McKentick pulled Horace to the side. 

What? 

Then Horace saw the guilty look on McKentick’s face. 

_Oh._

“Son,” he sighed. 

“No. I get it. I'm the sacrificial lamb.” Horace had to hold back the tears. The dream of him going back to Isla was gone. The dream of starting a family was gone. He didn’t have anything to hold anymore. 

No. It was fine. If this is what it took to end the war, then fine. He’d do it. He was a general. Generals had to make sacrifices for the good of their men. 

“You were the best candidate. With your father, your attitude towards their men, you’re the only one that we thought that would survive. Anyone else wouldn’t last long.” McKentick sighed and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, son. I know that you had dreams of going home to Isla.” 

“Generals have to make sacrifices.” 

McKentick looked unhappy at Horace’s statement. 

“Just tell me. Was my appointment to general merely just to qualify me for prisoner status or did I actually earn it?” Horace demanded, he felt the rush of tears. He earned this position. Right? 

He searched McKentick’s face for any answer. “You earned it, son. You truly did earn it.” 

Horace felt like McKentick was lying, but he needed something to hold on to. “Thank you sir. It means a lot to me. What about my things?” 

“I had Murray pack up everything. I didn’t want you want to leave Picta without some of your home.” 

“Thank you.” 

“It was the least I could do. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t send you. I’d send myself. Despite being a general, you’re still a kid.” 

“I think my time at war would have changed that.” Horace shrugged. 

McKentick clapped him on the arm and nodded. “I guess it does. Come on.” He guided Horace back out to the rest of the men. 

“Altman, boy, you ready?” McAngus asked, switching to their native tongue 

“As I’ll ever be, sir.” Horace gave him a weak smile. 

“You’re a good man, boy.” McAngus embraced Horace and pulled him into a tight hug. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t send you.” 

“I know sir. I know.” 

“Thank you for being a good man. The world needs more men like you. I will do anything to look after your family. You have my word.” 

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t have any. Just take care of my men. Get them home.” 

“I will.” 

Horace nodded and broke the embrace. He didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. MacArthur stepped forward and patted Horace’s shoulder with a painful smile. Horace gave him a little nod back. Murray came over with his horse Kicker and a saddle pack tied to it. “Thanks, Murray.” 

“We’ll all miss you boss. Best commander we had. Don’t forget us while you're off rubbing elbows with the nobles,” Murray joked. 

“I won’t.” Horace hugged his friend. 

With great hesitation, Horace broke the hug and took the reins from him. He nodded goodbye to Murray and swung up on his horse. 

“Horace, is there something that you want me to tell Isla?” McKentick asked. 

Horace looked over to his mentor, his heart heavy. There was no point was there? They were never going to last. Still he owed to her. “Just tell her I love her.” 

McKentick nodded. “I will.” 

Horace gave him a weak smile and turned his horse around to face the others. His eyes blurred. He couldn’t be weak. He was a Scotti General. He couldn’t be weak in front of his enemy. 

“When your men are strong enough, we’ll send them through. Armed escorts and all,” Warlord McAngus called to Sir David. 

That sent a rifle of confused through the small crowd of Araluens. “What?” Sir David asked. 

“Your men. The ones that you left for dead on the fields. You can thank General Altman for this. We found them and brought them back. Took care of them. They’ll be right as rain in a couple of weeks.” 

Sir. David looked over to Horace and then back to McAngus. “You saved them?” 

“A peace offering from the McAngus clan. We did not want this war, but bound by treaty we had to go through. I will bring it up with the Warlords. Any men from the war that they have as prisoners will be released and sent home.” McAngus crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. 

“I will personally guard these men on their return home.” McKentick brandished his sword. “I will honour Horace’s vision.” 

“You act like I’m dead,” Horace teased, looking over to his mentor. There was a sad look on his face that Horace tried to ignore. 

“That is kind of you, McAngus. Perhaps there could be a treaty in our future.” Sir David tried to approach the idea. 

“Don’t push it. You’re taking one of my best generals. Until you return him, they’ll be no treaty,” McAngus snarled at him. 

Horace sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He just wanted to leave, and not have this dragged out. He wanted to leave so that when night came he could curl up in a tent and cry. He’d made his peace with life. He just needed to move on. 

“I understand,” Baron Theo quietly interjected. “I will do what is in my power to get him home as soon as possible. With your peace offering of returning our men to their homes, I am sure that King Duncan will see reason.” 

Horace looked to the three shadowy figures, trying to get their take on the situation. They remained motionless. 

“You better, Baron Theo.” McAngus started the man down. There was something already between them. “Seeing how you have failed on your other promises.” 

“Fre-Warlord McAngus. The border has been unstable. It would have been suicide to even try,” Baron Theo tried to reason. He looked small and uncomfortable on his battle horse. 

“It has been seven years since the last time I saw them. The war has lasted a year. Try to come up with a better excuse before trying to pull the wool over my eyes,” McAngus snarled. Tears pricked his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Baron Theo whispered. “I will do my best.” 

McAngus looked wrecked and exhausted. MacArthur put a hand on his shoulder. McAngus brushed it off and stalked into the trees. Horace was confused, but he didn’t say anything. 

MacArthur stood where McAngus did and made hand signals. “The Warlord MacArthur says to go. The longer you stay, the more likely the MacFrewin clan will find you,” one of his generals translated. 

“I thought that the war is over. That you all agreed.” Sir David squinted angrily at MacArthur. 

The same general who translated at first continued as MacArthur started signing again. “The many do but not all. MacFrewin is angry.”

“I see. Let’s go, then.” Sir. David nodded to the three silent rangers. 

Horace gave his countrymen a nodded goodbye and nudged Kicker to follow Baron Theo. As he turned away and headed into the forest, one of the foot soldiers started playing the bagpipes. It was a mournful song that was usually played for a funeral. It was goodbye march. Horace had to bite his upper lip to stop himself from bursting into tears. The three Rangers followed him silently. Even their horses were silent. Horace didn’t want to say demons, but there was no way that they could do that naturally. 

Baron Theo looked over his shoulder over to Horace. “We’ll stop at Mainclaw when we pass through the border and spend a few nights at my castle before you go to Castle Araluen.” He said it in fluent Pictan. Horace was surprised at his mastery of the language. Horace nodded, he didn’t have much to say. “I’m sorry for this.”

“Generals have to make sacrifices.” The saying was starting to get sick in Horace’s stomach. Baron Theo shook his head sadly and turned back around on his horse. 

Horace sighed and shook his head. It was going to be a long trip. 

***

They were about a day’s ride from the border, not that anyone bothered to tell Horace, and Horace felt a little uneasy. Despite the McAngus and MacArthur controlling most of the mountainous border area, due to the war, other clans were stationed around possible border entries. 

The first thing that Horace did when they stopped was change out of his kilt, shove it at the bottom of one of his pack bags, and scrub off his war paint. He wasn’t a general. He was a prisoner. He didn’t deserve to wear the paint. 

Horace sat apart from the Araluen group, close enough so that the Rangers wouldn’t freak out but far enough away from them that they wouldn’t bother him. 

It gave him an added bonus. They spoke freely with themselves in their own language, none the wiser. So far it was mundane things but at least Horace had some semblance of control over his situation. 

So Horace sat on a rock, sharpening and oiling his sword and keeping an eye out for ambushes. He wouldn’t relax until they crossed the border. Horace sighed and slid a finger alongside his sword to test the sharpness. It was perfect. Horace was done. He didn’t know what else to do. He was going to have to learn how to deal with the mind-numbing boredom that he was going to be subjected to. 

Horace stood up and walked over to his pack, put his things away, and sheathed his sword. 

He cast a glance over to the strange Rangers and Sir David and Baron Theo. Sir David and Baron Theo where in deep discussion about something. Horace paused for a second to listen. They were talking about their children. Apparently Theo had a daughter and sir. David had several. Two boys and three girls. Nothing interesting. 

The Rangers on the other hand. _They_ were interesting.

Once they left the gathering, the Rangers had taken off their hoods. Horace wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he wasn’t expecting them. Well, one of them he expected. The one who looked to be the leader, a shorter man with silver in his black hair and gruff expression. His eyes never left Horace and his hand never left the heavy black bow and his black shafted arrows were always in arms reach. 

The same black shafted arrows that found their way into General McAgnew’s back. Horace’s mouth went a little dry when he made the connection. 

The other two Rangers, at first glance, didn’t look like much. They were young. The smallest, the one with dark curly hair, looked like he was Horace’s age. Maybe even younger. When ever he caught Horace’s eye he gave Horace a friendly little smile that made him uncomfortable. His eyes always followed. The other one, who was taller with shaggy hair, had a sword. 

Horace never heard of a Ranger with a sword. All of their legends they had bows for weapons. The tall Ranger caught Horace’s eye at one point while he was looking at the sword and winked. That had unsettled Horace. 

Horace’s eyes slid from the small group huddled by a campfire to the trees around them. He gripped his sword with unease.

“Something wrong General?” Baron Theo asked. 

Horace spared him a glance, and the rest of the group peeked up in interest. Horace sighed and looked back around to the trees. Horace took a second to get himself back into the trader’s tongue. “Last I remembered, there was a platoon of MacFrewin’s men around these parts.” 

The older Ranger, probably the leader, frowned in thought. “Thought that the MacArthur and the McAngus clan controlled the land around the border.” 

“We do. Currently. But the war spread the clans all around. This route takes us the most popular border crossing. MacFrewin seized it the first chance he got. It’s going to be hell to get it back from him.” Horace shook his head. “How’d you guys cross anyways?” 

He’s seen one of them at least in the drowned forest. One of them crossed through by the One Raven’s pass but the others? How’d they get through? 

Sir. David shrugged. “Halt smuggled us in.” 

The leader stiffened as the name was mentioned. So he was Halt. Horace had one of their names now. 

Horace sighed and gripped his sword in thought. “Look, we’re about a days ride from the border. There’s a path nearby deviates from the main road. It’ll be rough as it goes through the mountains. I doubt that MacFrewin’s men found it. It’ll be rough but the chance of us getting discovered is low.” 

“There’s a peace treaty in place. We got two warlords to sign on behalf of the rest of the council.” Halt crossed his arms, glaring at Horace. He didn’t trust Horace. They were really out of touch. Warlords weren’t on the council. 

“You think a piece of paper is going to stop him? Almost the entire council was against the war but MacFrewin went against us anyways. Look where we ended up.” Horace challenged the man, gesturing around them with a hand. 

Halt frowned and thought about it. The other two Rangers looked like they were considering what Horace said. Halt tapped the taller one on the knee. “Scout ahead. See if you can find anyone.” The tall one nodded and stood up. He untied his horse and a second later he disappeared into the night. 

The night grew quiet again. The flicker of the fire cast dark shadows across Halt’s face as he stared at Horace. “Come join us. You’ve been sulking in the shadows the whole time.” 

“Like you’re the one to talk.” Horace gave Halt a dirty look as he fed Kicker an apple. 

Sir. David choked in laughter. Baron Theo looked amused. The young Ranger burst out in laughter as Halt glared at Horace. “Come on, Halt. He’s got a point.” Halt continued to glare. 

“I saw you, or at least one of you, at the drowned forest.” Horace sat down the furthest from Halt. 

“We know. You shielded the other general without a second thought.” Halt rose a pointed eyebrow at Horace.

“He was still my general. I got the promotion this morning. I was a colonel.” Horace stared into the flames of the fire. He still felt bitter about the rush promotion. He knew it was fake. He wasn’t dumb. 

“That explains how you became a general at such a young age.” The young Ranger fiddled with an arrow shaft. 

“Says the guy whose a day away from turning fifteen.” Horace crossed his arms in annoyance. He earned his promotion. 

There was a silence for a second. Then young Ranger burst into laughter. He was elbowed into silence by Halt. The sound of smothered giggles echoed in Horace’s ears. “I like you!” 

Horace to stop himself from breaking into a smile. 

Horace listened as the young Ranger stumble over his words in the trader’s tongue. It wasn’t important that they didn’t know that Horace was half-Araluen. They probably already knew. Altman wasn’t a very Scotti name. He would reveal it anyways at one point, not everyone in Araluen speaks the trader tongue.“You don’t have to speak trader’s tongue around me. I understand the Araluen language.” 

“Oh!” The young ranger perked up. Halt’s unsettling eyes flickered over to Horace. Horace really needed to find out his name. “Great!” He switched languages. “So I got a question?” 

Horace rose an eyebrow at him. 

The guy scratched his nose. “Where’d the kilt go? I thought that you guys wore them. You were wearing one earlier!” 

Horace frowned at him. What? Was he serious? Horace sighed and rubbed his eyebrows. “The kilt, it, we. No. No. Look, we don’t wear them all the time. It’s a formal thing. We wear pants just like you. Especially in the winter and in combat. No one wants his bits freezing off.” Horace scoffed. 

The young Ranger nodded, deep in thought. “Ok. Ok. New question.” 

Horace rose his eyebrow, gesturing for the Ranger to continue. These were relatively harmless questions for the most part. “What’s with the last names around here? Mc and Mac and shit. I don’t get it? Where’d that come from?” 

Horace shrugged. “Mc and Mac translates to, son of whatever. McAngus, son of Angus. MacArthur, son of Arthur.” 

The young ranger frowned and tapped the arrow shaft to his chin. Halt just looked bored. “So your last name is McAltman? Who names their son Altman?” 

“No.” Horace stood up abruptly. “My last name is just Altman.” His last name was painful and a constant reminder that he didn’t belong, not truly, with his brethren. 

“Where are you going?” Halt asked. 

“To watch the perimeter. I’d like my sacrifice to not be in vain.” Horace waved a hand to the dark trees. 

“The horses are on alert. They’ll warn us if someone’s coming.” Halt gestured to the horses. 

“MacFrewin’s men are raised as hunters. The only thing more silent than them while hunting are ghosts that haunt this land. You think that your horses are more sensitive than other prey animals?” Horace scoffed and headed to the trees. 

He needed the darkness to cover his tears. 

***

The Ranger that left last night showed up in the morning when they were collapsing the site and packing up the horses. “So?” Halt asked. 

“Well the general’s not wrong. There’s men crawling up and down the road. The three of us could easily get by but all six? Doubt it.”

“Gilan, did you find that path Horace was talking about?” The youngest Ranger asked. Ok, two names down. Just the youngest now. 

“Honestly, I wasn’t looking for it.” Gilan shook his head and slid off his horse and accepted the cup of something from Halt and chugged it down. He collapsed onto the ground and sighed happily. 

“The path is a quarter of a mile down the road. If you look for a giant pine notches on the trunk on the left, the path will behind it. It’s small and kind of overgrown for the first couple of minutes,” Horace butted into the conversation, tugging on Kicker’s saddle. 

Halt looked over to Horace and gave him a little nod. “Stay here, I’ll scout ahead,” he ordered. He climbed up onto his shaggy horse and trotted out of there. Horace wondered if the reason why they used such small horses because they were short. Seriously, Halt was almost a foot smaller than Horace. 

“Will, my baby boy, do me a favour and help me up.” Gilan groaned and lifted his arms. 

The younger ranger, Will now, rolled his eyes and pulled Gilan up. Sir David rose an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Be professional, Gilan.” 

“No.” Gilan stuck his tongue out at Sir David. Sir David rolled his eyes fondly. They did look similar, where they related? Horace didn’t know how things worked in Araluen but Gilan being related to sir. David probably could help him get into the Ranger group. 

Horace shook his head and turned back to Kicker. At least he still had Kicker. 

“Don’t tell me you’re developing a telepathic bond with your horse.” Horace looked over his shoulder in confusion to Baron Theo. “I’ve had to deal with the Rangers talking to their horses this entire trip. I don’t need another person talking to their horse.” 

Horace shook his head. “I’m not. It’s just that Kicker is one of the only things I brought from home with me. I feel strange. It’s just really hitting me, I’m leaving my home for the first time ever.” 

Baron Theo nodded. “I get it, to an extent I guess. The first time I left Norgate and went to Castle Araluen I was a wreck. It’ll get better, son.” Horace nodded sadly and turned back to his horse. 

He heard Theo move off. Horace continued to pack his horse. He didn’t want to leave Picta. This was his home. Horace bet that in two months time, people back home would stop talking about him. He already was ostracized. He didn’t fit in. His father was an Araluen, not a Scotti. Not that being Araluen did Horace’s father any good. Being chased out of his home and receiving no support from the people who said that they would help, he was betrayed.

Well, that was the saying wasn’t it? Like father like son. 

Horace must have pull the strap too tight because Kicker whined in protest. “Sorry buddy,” Horace apologized, patting Kicker’s side and loosening the strap. Kicker nudged Horace’s head and looked at him with big brown eyes. “I’m fine.” 

Shit. Maybe he was starting to talk to Kicker. Whoops. Sorry, Baron Theo. 

“Hey Horace?” Will’s quiet voice pulled Horace away from Kicker. 

Horace looked over his shoulder and rose an eyebrow at Will. He looked guilty. “Look, I’m sorry if I struck a cord last night. I didn’t mean too.” 

“No, it wasn’t you.” Horace shook his head. “I just, it’s been hard to be an outsider here. Especially now. Sorry for snapping at you.” 

“I get the outsider part,” Will agreed. Horace rose an eyebrow at Will. Will shrugged. “I was an orphan. There were boys who found that hilarious.” Will’s tone was bitter and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

Horace lost his parents a couple years ago. He couldn’t remember if there were boys who did that too. Most people gave him some sort of respect, probably because McKentick took him in. Everyone in the village helped Horace take care of his parents’ graves. Probably because his parents’ graves were in the middle of the garden where most of the healing herbs they used. It was to their benefit. 

“People suck.” 

Will snorted and nodded along. “Yeah, they do.” 

“But at least now, you have a place. With the Rangers. You’re a war hero.” Horace nudged him.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Will looked mystified. “It doesn’t feel like that.”

Horace got that. He was supposed to be the hero that ended the war and saved everyone but in reality, all Horace felt was that he was being punished. 

“Was your Araluen heritage the reason why you came with us?” Will asked. 

“Amongst other reasons. Probably because I refused to let Araluen soldiers die and because they probably wanted me out of the country because I have a target on my back since I’m the one who got the war ended. Not too favourable in other Scotti eyes.” 

“But no one won? We’re keeping the same territory lines.” Will looked lost. 

“It’s a matter of pride. Most Scotti men would win the war but die in combat before ending a war like this.” Horace shrugged and strapped his sword to his belt. 

He noticed Will looked confused and shook his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you guys were Skandians. Strange.” Horace let out a little huff of amusement. Sea bound clans in Northern Picta and Skandia did have trade agreements, and Skandian pirates tended to avoid raiding Scotti towns. 

Horace watched as Will turn to finish packing away his things. He had heard those stories. About the ranger who defeated that invading force that came into Skandia. Will spoke about Skandians with fondness like he knew them. No. Will, he was too young. He looked barely over Horace’s age. But Horace recognized those slumped shoulders and tired eyes. He saw them frequently at the front. McKentick mirrored Will’s tired look almost perfectly. 

Horace sighed and rubbed his neck. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort Will. He had been kind to Horace. 

Will moved over to Gilan and they discussed something quietly. Horace didn’t pick up what they said. Horace pulled his tartan cloak off of the log that he had put it on. He didn’t know if he should wear it. If he did, then he’d have a target. MacFrewin’s men would single him out and when they crossed into Araluen, his presence wouldn’t be too welcoming. But Horace was a Scotti. He wore his colours with pride. If Horace was to go down, he’d do so wearing his colours. 

Horace shrugged and pulled it over his shoulders, doing up the clasp on one shoulder. 

Halt came trotting back up to the group and quietly slid off. “The general is right. I found the path. It’s narrow but we can get through it. We should get going.” 

Halt didn’t have to really say that, because they were all packed up and honestly just waiting for Halt to get back. Everyone climbed onto their horses silently and headed down to the path. Horace couldn’t help but grab onto the hilt of his sword. He felt restless, and like they were going to be ambushed. Unlike the ranger’s silent horses, the battle horses sounded like they were banging pots and pans around and yelling that they were there. 

Tearing his gaze away from the trees, Horace noticed that Halt had pulled back to next to Horace. “I’m not telling you what to do, General. But wearing that cloak will put a target on you.” 

“I know,” Horace replied evenly. “But I am a proud member of the McAngus clan. I’d rather die in my colours than live like a coward. I’ll wear my target with pride.” 

“I can respect that.” Halt looked annoyed at the concept. 

“Yet you hate it.” Horace couldn’t help but give him a smirk. Halt glared at him. Horace chuckled and left Halt behind him as they approached the tree that Horace pointed out. 

He slid off Kicker and took his reins. He looked over to the rest of the group. They had climbed off their horses. 

“Should one of the Rangers go first?” Sir. David asked. 

Halt shook his head. “No. We don’t know the path like the general does. Sure we could figure it out but for efficiency’s sake, he’ll go first. Gilan, hang back and make sure we’re not followed.” 

Gilan nodded and grabbed his bow. 

“Alright.” Horace shrugged and guided Kicker through the thick brush. He had to stop for a quick second to calm Kicker down. The poor horse didn’t seem to like the tight space. Horace didn’t blame him. He hated taking this path but they had to pull through. Kicker, thankfully, didn’t cause more of a ruckus. 

Horace let out a breath of fresh air when the brush parted and he could see the blue sky. 

“How long is this path?” Sir. David asked. 

“Don’t want to do the hard work? I thought that you Araluens are supposed to the best of the best. Especially the generals,” Horace teased. Sir David sent him a tired look. He didn’t seem mad, Horace just got the sense that he had to deal with this a lot from his children. Horace grinned tiredly. “It’s not long. But we’ll have to go slow on the decent. It’s steep and the horses won’t be thrilled with it.” 

“I think Tug will be fine, right buddy?” Will cooed to his horse. Tug just snorted in response. 

“Don’t talk to Tug like that, Will. He’s not a baby.” Halt’s grumpy voice floated over to Horace, and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I think we’re all baby in a way. Don’t you think, Sir David?” Will asked. 

Horace looked over his shoulder to Sir David, who looked like he was about to laugh. Horace leaned back him and saw Will grinning like just won a prize and then right behind him was Halt, looking like he wanted to murder someone. 

Horace figured that he was going to have to deal with this for the entire trip. He shook his head and focused on the climb. The rocks were starting to loosen up and it was hard to get good footing. 

***

When they made out onto the other side, all Horace saw was trees. He couldn’t be surprised, most of Picta was forest. “Where are we?” He asked. He did not know the geography of Araluen very well. 

“I thought you people raided Araluen towns?” Gilan trotted past Horace and elbowed him before riding off. Horace glared at him. 

“While it is true that certain Scotti clans tend to poach cattle from time to time, that doesn’t mean that all of us poach,” Horace grumbled and got onto Kicker. He patted Kicker on the neck and nudged him after the rangers. 

“Will, Baron Theo, you know fief the best. Any idea?” Halt asked. 

Horace looked at Will who was still off of his horse and examining the trees. If Will was the one out of all of the Rangers to know the fief. Then he was the one who lead the siege against MacHaddish. Shit. “Judging by the geography we’re probably somewhere in Grimsdell Woods.” 

Grimsdell Woods. No. No. 

That’s where MacHaddish disappeared. That’s where the sorcerer and his minions lived. Now Horace wasn't as superstitious as some of his brethren, as his father had always taught Horace to look at a situation first and find a logical solution, but Grimsdell Woods held so many dark tales within its trees that Horace didn’t feel comfortable in them. They needed to get out of there fast. 

Horace slid off of Kicker, tied him to a tree, dropped his shield and started climbing. 

The pine tree that he chose was tall and thick enough to support his weight. Once he got high enough, Horace would be able to see where they were. Also it would give him a break from these people. 

Horace broke the tree line and he could feel the sharp winter wind bit at his face. Horace grumbled but took in the scenery around him. 

In the far distance Horace could smoke coming from what he assumed was a town. Closer to him was a tall dark and very imposing castle. Horace pulled his compass from around his neck and and pointed it towards the castle. South. Good. 

Now the quickest way to get out of there. The woods ended closest to them on the west side but he couldn’t see if there was a path that could lead them to the castle. Horace was not going to go trampling through the snow. Horace scratched his chin. He looked to the north to see if he could see if there was any paths. 

He didn’t. Their best bet was to go through the woods. 

Great. 

Horace slid down the tree and landed in a small snow bank with a dramatic thud. 

“There’s a foreboding looking castle to the south and the forest ends in like a kilometre to the west. But I saw no paths alongside the forest. Best bet to go through the forest.” Horace made a face at the thought. 

“Not a fan of the forest?” Baron Theo asked. 

“Not of this one,” Horace mumbled, sliding his shield back onto his back and getting back onto Kicker. 

“You know whatever tales you might have heard about the forest, Malkallam and his dark magic,” Will waved his hands dramatically, “Isn’t true. I met the guy. He’s nice. Not a sorcerer.” 

“I heard he makes great coffee and apparitions. And that you left a puppy here.” Gilan tsked at Will. 

“Trobar needed her more than I did. I did it for a good reason.” Will slouched in his saddle. 

“Chin up, Will. Gilan, stop being mean to him,” Sir David scolded Gilan. Gilan made a face behind Sir David’s back. Yeah, they were definitely related. 

Horace pinched his nose and sighed. “So what do we do from here?” 

“I’ll go look for a trail. There should be one around here. I’ll be back soon.” Will nudged Tug into action. “See ya.” He waved and a second later he disappeared into the trees. Despite Horace knowing Will and knowing that he was nice and relatively kind, he still felt unsettled every time he did that. 

***

As night started to come, and it came early because it was winter, Horace started to get a little more unsettled. They were going slower than he had hoped. The horses get spooked easily and the path was rough. At times they needed to go single file. 

“Hey Horace?” Will piped up from the back. 

Horace looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the small figure that seemingly blended into the night behind him. “Yeah?” 

“The general that attacked Macindaw, MacHaddish, I think it was? Did you know him?” Will’s voice barely above a whisper. Horace could feel Halt’s eyes on him. 

“No,” Horace answered truthfully. He shook his head. “Just read the report.” 

“Oh.” Will fell silent. 

“Why?” Horace rose an eyebrow at Will. 

“Did he have a family? Kids?” 

Horace frowned. He had similar thoughts when he first started fighting. Wondering if the men he killed had wives waiting at home for them. If he was making their children orphans like Horace. But then he remembered that the men who had killed his father and then later his mother didn’t have those thoughts. 

Horace didn’t honestly know if MacHaddish had a family or not. Odds are, he probably did but Horace didn’t know. MacHaddish was from a different clan. 

Looking at Will’s young but very upset face made Horace go into commander mode. He’d lie if it made Will feel better. “I don’t think he did. He had a crabby attitude from what McKentick told me.” Horace shrugged. Ok, he lied a little.

Will looked a little better. 

Horace want to speak to him about the guilt he was feeling. That it was normal in times of combat. that while it empathic of Will to feel the guilt, he had to understand generals like MacHaddish understood the dangers of war. A lot of soldiers, the professionals, or if they were Scotti, men, were trained in combat and accepted that once they left they might not come back. 

Was Horace going down a grim road? Yes. Was it because this forest freaked him out? Yes. 

But he shouldn’t talk to Will. It wasn’t his place. It was Gilan’s or Halt’s place. Now that Horace thought about it, was Halt Will’s mentor? Will looked up to him for guidance and Halt gave him orders with ease, and seemed rather protective of him. 

Ahead of Horace, Baron Theo’s horse bucked in fear, sending Baron Theo tumbling off. Horace stopped Kicker and slid off, holding an arm out to Baron Theo. 

Horace didn’t have much of an opinion on his travel companions, trying not to get attached to them as they’d probably just turn on him or just leave. But he liked Baron Theo. He always spoke to Horace in his native tongue and tried to put him at ease. 

If Horace got a choice as to where his prison was, he’d chose Baron Theo’s castle. But it was probably too close to Picta. 

Where was he going anyways? 

“Thanks.” Baron Theo gave Horace a grateful smile and took his outstretched hand. Horace nodded and pulled him up. 

It sounded stupid, but time seemed to slow down around Horace. He felt keenly aware of everything around him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in alarm. 

He heard Kicker nicker in warning. 

Something was coming. 

On instinct, Horace shoved Baron Theo, who squeaked in surprise at the sudden shove, behind him and swung his shield in front of him, his hand going for his sword. 

Looming in the trees was a hulking figure. Horace couldn’t make out much of the giant as most of his face was hidden in the shadows of the trees but was hard to miss him. He knew that Will told him that the stories of Grimsdell Woods weren’t real but here was proof. The low growl coming from the giant’s throat made Horace shiver in fear. 

There was no natural way that there could be someone like this. 

“Get out!” The shape rumbled. 

It seemed like everyone else snapped into attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both Halt and Gilan draw their bows, and Sir David fiddling with his sword. 

If his companions weren't going to flee in fear, then Horace wasn’t. He tightened his grip on his shield and glared at the shape. 

“I said get out!” The giant’s words slurred together a little but it was still effective. Horace was ready to grab the baron, toss him on the horse and book it out of there. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Will put himself in front of Horace. “Trobar, it’s me! Will!” 

Horace watched as the giant falter. He didn’t seem as threatening now. Horace eased up a little. Kicker stumbled and let out a little screech. The giant flinched away from Kicker who started to buck and caused the other battle horses to buck a little too. Sir David near fell off his. 

“Horace, can you get your horse under control?” Will asked quietly. 

“Sure.” Horace slowly lowered his shield. He shouldered it and went over to a frantic Kicker. Horace held his hands up and slowly approached him. “Hey buddy. It’s me. Horace. It’s okay,” he spoke in low tones. 

Kicker seemed to register that it was Horace who was approaching him, as he calmed down a little. Horace cooed softly and gently patted his neck. Kicker calmed down a little. Horace grabbed the reins and continued to pat him until Kicker calmed down. 

Horace turned back to Will and the giant. “Sorry for scaring you, buddy. We’re just passing through to get to Macindaw.” 

The giant nodded and started disappearing into the shadows even more. 

“You guys need anything? I can get Orman to get you supplies.”

“No. I’ll tell Sh’dow you say h’llo.”

“Thank you Trobar! Bye!” Will waved as the giant disappeared. He looked around to everyone. “Sorry about that. The folks who live here are kind of protective of their forest.” 

“So the Malkallam legend is fake?” Baron Theo asked. 

“Yeah, it’s just a healer who wants to keep people away. He’s pretty nice. He helped us take back Macindaw. Orman said he’d help them out in any way to repay them.” Will shrugged, and put his bow away. Horace hadn’t even noticed he had his bow out. 

Baron Theo nodded in appreciation. “How is Orman? I haven’t had the chance to speak with him recently.” He asked as he climbed onto his horse. 

“Last I heard of him, he’s still a little weak but he’s has that secretary of his. Pity the man trying to get through to him. Oh, and the Skandians we recruited are still around. Apparently ship-building takes awhile. Who knew?” Will shrugged as they started off again. 

Horace saw Halt roll his eyes. Gilan grinned and Sir David just looked a little frazzled. Baron Theo looked like he was deep in thought. 

***

Horace didn’t like this castle. As they approached the main gates, minus Gilan and Sir David as they had their own missions outside of Horace, Horace stared up at the grim snow-covered castle. It gave him a sense of dread. Maybe it because he knew what happened to his countrymen here. Skandians weren’t ones for hospitality. 

They were waved in quickly and redirected to the stables. 

Horace felt on edge. Beady eyes followed him, painting him out to be a target. He couldn’t back down. If he did, they’d tear him to pieces. 

In the courtyard, propped up on hastily nailed together beams of wood were the tattered remains of Scotti cloaks. Horace had to swallow the bile rising to his throat. Those cloaks were one of the few things that all Scotti men prized amongst their possessions. Their tartan was their pride. Now they were displayed like trophies, disrespecting the spirits of the dead men. 

“What’s wrong?” Will asked Horace. 

He couldn’t find the words in the Araluen tongue to express what he was feeling. He just stared at the cloaks haphazardly flickering in the wind with as much loathing that his aching body could muster. Horace sighed and shook his head. He should expect this. He was in the enemy territory. They were more likely to rip his head off than listen to him. 

He climbed off Kicker and lead him into a stall, watching that both Will and Halt were taking care of their horses. 

Horace didn’t trust Araluens with his horse or his possessions. He didn’t want Kicker to get hurt. After brushing Kicker down and making sure that he had enough to eat and was going to be fine, Horace shouldered his pack and left the stable. 

Men in rough sheepskin vests and horned helmets mingled with the normal guards who stared at Horace when he appeared. His heartbeat picked up but Horace kept a calm face as he walked over to Baron Theo and a macabre looking man, honestly Horace would have thought that he was the sorcerer, who must be the lord of this castle. As he walked over, everyone seemed to tense up. 

Baron Theo must have noticed as he waved a hand to the men watching them and they seemed to relax but they didn’t leave. 

“I can have someone take your belongings to your room if you wish,” the lord said. What was his name? Orman? 

Horace tightened his grip on his pack. “No offence sir, but I do not trust your men around my belongings.” 

Lord Orman shrugged, his face didn’t change. “None taken. If I were in your position, I would do the same thing.” Horace felt a little better. But those damned cloaks were ruining everything. 

“Orman, why are those cloaks up?” Baron Theo actually sounded a little enraged about this. Horace gave him a puzzled look. He then shared it with Will who had appeared alongside Halt in the courtyard. “This is an affront, even in wartime!” 

Lord Orman looked puzzled and Horace decided to fill him in. Horace sighed before diving in. “Look, it’s not the cloak specifically. It’s the tartan on the cloaks. It identifies who we are, to us it’s a prized possession. It’s a part of our identity. Typically Scotti have their cloaks returned to their families after they die. What your men, or Skandians, whomever, did to that to the cloaks is essentially spitting on the graves of dead men. I, personally, am too tired to get angry about this but when General McKentick and his men bring over the Araluen soldiers and see this bullshit, they will riot.” 

Lord Orman looked disgusted and confused at the same time. “I am so sorry, General. We did not know this. I will have someone take them down immediately. But what do you mean that there is another general and his men coming over the border?” 

“Thanks to the General here, a fair amount of Araluen soldiers survived and have been nursed back to health by the Scotti people. Warlords McAngus and MacArthur have agreed to spare General McKentick and his men to bring them over the border safely. So don’t kill them.” Halt interrupted Horace before he could speak. 

Lord Orman nodded, digesting the information that was just dumped on him. “I suppose thanks are in order towards you.” He gave Horace a little nod of thanks. 

“You can thank me by taking down those cloaks.” Horace crossed his arms. 

“Of course.” Lord Orman waved over some men. Horace tried to gleam what they were thinking while Lord Orman instructed them to take down the cloaks. They didn’t really seem to care but the Skandians listening in did. 

One Skandian came storming over when he saw the guards take down the wooden posts. “Oi? What ya doing with those?” He yelled. 

Horace heard Will sighed and then saw him put his hands in his face. “Where’s Erak when you need him?” He muttered. 

“Debating on whether or not to kill that hilfman of his,” Halt muttered in response. Will giggled slightly. Horace had no idea what they were talking about. 

“We’re taking them down. As per request of the Baron and the visiting General.” The Skandian didn’t like that response apparently as he snarled at Lord Orman. 

“We won those fair and square. I was going to take ‘em home and make them inta table cloths. Don’t ya think that they’d look nice?” The Skandian smirked. 

That smirk sent Horace overboard with anger. He dropped his pack and stormed through Lord Orman and Baron Theo and grabbed onto the collar of the man’s shirt and dragged the Skandian to his face. “Listen here you shitsmear of a person. Those cloaks are one of those most important pieces of Scotti culture and identity, and you’re daring to use them as appliances? Imagine if I stole your cheap and frankly disgusting looking helmet and used it as a chamber pot?” Horace snarled, glaring into the eyes of the terrified man. 

Horace felt some sort of satisfaction when the Skandian started shaking in fear. Horace dropped the man and he crumbled to the ground. He landed with a clunk as Horace stalked back to the Baron. Baron Theo looked stunned. So did Lord Orman. Will and Halt had perfectly neutral faces. 

“Forgive me for the display of anger, Baron and Lord. I was out of line.” Horace gave them a stiff bow. 

“Oh no. That was completely in line. No need to apologize.” Baron Theo waved Horace off. 

“I agree with the Baron. The cloaks will stay safe in my study and I will personally make sure that they will be delivered to the General coming.” Horace nodded in thanks. The tartan was yellow, red and black, from the MacKelly clan which was in the north, and certainly wasn’t from their clan but Horace knew that McKentick would get them to their homes. 

“Thank you, Lord Orman. I’m sorry to hear about your father. He did not deserve to die that way.” 

The whole situation with the Araluen traitor should have not have happened. It was disgusting and slimy. It was not honourable. Scotti never fought like that. That traitor broke his promise and to the Scotti, that was the worst thing that someone could do. 

Lord Orman sighed, looking dejected. “Thank you. I hope that I will be able to fill in the shoes that he left.” 

“I think you are!” Will piped up. 

“Yes, from what I have heard, you done an exceptional job under the circumstances that you inherited this title from. So what if Keren was able to take over for a second. You managed to get it back,” Baron Theo assured him. 

“Not to mention, you’ve managed to wrangle the Skandians into behaving a little. Impressive.” Halt looked over to the courtyard where some of the Skandians stepped up to help the guards take down the cloaks. 

“Probably threatened to send Xander after them,” Will joked. 

Lord Orman smiled tightly but there was a twinkle in his eye. “Be kind, ranger. Or I’ll send Xander after you.”

“Speak of the devil,” Will muttered as a middle aged angry looking man in a uniform appeared at Lord Orman’s elbow. He gave Horace a disgusted look, which Horace wasn’t surprised to get. 

“Xander, would you be so kind and escort our guests to their rooms,” Orman ordered. 

“Of course sir.” Xander bowed and turned to them. “If you follow me,” he said briskly, turned around and marched off. Horace shared a confused look with Baron Theo but followed after him, Will and Halt.


	2. Chapter 2

The night so far had been horrible. Lord Orman tried to put Horace at ease as best as possible but this place freaked him out. They didn’t really have castles in Picta. Most clans picked a secure spot that could easily be defendable to build their villages and built a wall around the village. Everyone had their own small home. 

Mainclaw castle was huge and dark. Horace had a hard time wrapping his mind around the scale of this castle. He could get lost and no one would be able to find him. It terrified him. 

Horace was just around too many people. He was used to having dinners in the banquet halls and the bonfires in the village square, but this was the sheer amount of people just constantly around him for the entire evening and Horace just couldn’t leave. He couldn’t go back to his room and had to sit there for all of dinner and drinks afterwards, which Horace didn’t touch because he didn’t trust himself drunk or letting his guard down around people. Halt felt the same way, because he had a matching angry look at the table. Horace was content with sitting there with Halt. Will, on the other hand, loved the attention. He even got an instrument, a mandola Horace was told passionately, and played a few songs. 

Now, Horace laid on his back, staring at the stone ceiling. The room that he had been given was cold and empty feeling. His little cabin that he lived in back home got cold in the winter but it had been well insulated. Here, despite the wool blankets in the room, Horace shivered a little. He wondered how Will and Halt were doing. 

The fire in his room had long gone out.   
  
Wrapping himself in his heavy wool cloak, Horace slipped out of his bed and peered at the moon. There were only a few hours until daybreak. He hadn’t slept at all. 

Part of Horace wanted to break down and cry. He’s shed a few tears already but he had stopped himself. He hadn’t had the privacy before. Now he did but he couldn’t summon the energy to start. 

He missed his home. 

He missed Isla. 

That was stupid. Stop it. Horace sat back down on his bed and glared at the few coals that survived. The relationship has fizzled out long ago. Horace was just clinging onto a thought that he needed to let go. 

Sitting here, in this stupid room, wasn’t going to help. Even if he could get himself to sleep, he’d wake up almost right away. He was too jumpy. Had been for sometime. Some Araluen General or leader, or whatever, liked to do nighttime attacks. Forcing Horace and his men having to sleep in shifts, causing them to get less sleep. 

Horace tugged on his boots, grabbed his pack and further wrapped himself up better and headed out of his room. 

He didn’t know the layout that well but he memorized his way out. Horace slipped into the stables and found Kicker. Kicker sleepy looked over to Horace as he slipped into the stall. “Hey buddy.” Horace patted Kicker’s side and tossed his pack onto the ground. 

Horace stared at the pack and frowned slightly. Thinking about it now, he actually haven’t gone through his pack. He’s just grabbed the pants he needed and be done with it. 

Whatever. Horace will do it later. 

Horace collapsed onto a bail of hay and sighed. “You’re lucky you’re a horse,” Horace mumbled. Kicker snorted and nudged Horace’s face. Horace patted Kicker’s face. 

Horace just wanted to escape the world and find some semblance of home. 

Horace didn’t even want to think about what the King’s castle would be like. 

The stalls did it for him. Horace sat on a bail of hay and enjoyed the silence and the smell of hay. It reminded him of home. He played with a knife as the morning grew around them. 

He just lay there listening to the world start to wake up. He wasn’t as cold, surprisingly. It was probably because he had a giant horse’s head on his lap that was generating heat. Kicker didn’t usually sleep on his side like he was currently but they had a weird bond and Horace liked to think that Kicker could tell that Horace was suffering. 

When the stablehand came into the stable and saw Horace in the stable, disappeared for a couple of minutes and then came back with a small plate for breakfast and a cup of coffee. 

“Thank you.” Horace accepted the food. 

The stable hand gave him a shaky grin. “We heard about your sacrifice, sir. No one wanted the war. It is the least I can do. You stopped me from having to fight my brothers,” he replayed in Pictan, their mother language. 

On the plate was a small pin. The oval pin had a symbol pressed onto it was a small snippet of a Jumpier tree. 

“Thanks from the McFleming Clan. Take care, General Altman. There’ll be some who will be your friends, but Araluens are tricky. They like deceit. Look at the Rangers.” Horace didn’t know that the McFleming Clan was still alive. They were the clan that was originally in Norgate, Horace thought that they were wiped out ages ago. 

“I will. Thank you.” 

The stablehand nodded and then disappeared to go do his job. Horace took the pin and hid in along the folds of his cloak. 

Part of his heart lifted. He had supporters. Even here in Araluen. 

Horace had his breakfast quietly and then quietly nudged Kicker up and started to slowly getting ready. Halt liked to leave early. Horace got what he was coming from. 

“Hey General!” The Skandian that Horace hated appeared and almost yelled at him in the trader’s tongue. He was unkempt with a greasy beard and hazy tattoos that looked like he had carved a knife on his skin and then just rubbed ink onto it.

“What do you want?” Horace glared at the man. 

The man helped up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to fight General. Look ‘m sorry bout the cloaks. Didn’t know. Name’s Nils. Just wanted to ask something.” 

“What?” Horace asked, standing up. 

“We found these rings on the bodies. Obviously we don’t know anything about you folks, the boys and I just wanna know if these any importance to you folks. We don’t wanna offend.” 

“Rings?” 

Nils held up a ring to him. Horace picked it up and stared at the ring in question. It was heavy iron and silver men's ring with a flat surface and a symbol pressed into it. The symbol was of a coiled snake around a pine branch. “It's signet ring. They represent different houses. I cannot force all of you to give the rings back but it would honourable of you to return them.” Nils leaned against the stall door and stared at the ring. “I thought you folks used that Tartan for yer houses.” 

“The tartan represents the clan you belong to, the signet ring shows what house you belong to inside the clan. Everyone has one.” 

Horace pulled out his mother’s signet ring from the chain around his neck. “This is my mom’s. It should have been passed to my sister but she did not make it.” Horace winced at the thought. He held up his left hand that had his father’s signet ring, it had a sunset carved into it. Technically it was an Araluen ring but it was similar enough to get his point across. “Mother’s pass their rings down through their daughters when they die and father’s pass through their sons. In the event of war like this, we’ll we have to mint new for the ones lost. Start new houses if necessary.” 

“Did their sons survive?” 

“I have no way of knowing. Different clan and all. Tartan’s different.” Horace gestured to his cloak. 

“Ah.” Nils nodded. “I’ll get the boys te look through for the signet rings.” 

Kicker snorted and nudged Nils with his snout. Nils scrambled back and made a face the horse, grumbling something in his natural tongue. Horace held back a smile as he pulled Kicker back a little. He knew the reputation of Skandian’s towards horses. 

“What about the bagpipes we found?” 

The bagpipes were bagpipes. They were nothing special. “What would you do with them?” 

“I dunno. Learn to play? We’re raiders! We hoard things.” 

“Right.” Horace frowned at the guy. He petted Kicker, who was trying to get Horace’s attention. “I mean you can keep them. On one condition.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t let Will around it.” 

Ryhs grinned. He gave Horace a mock salute. “Aye Aye, General.” He turned around and ran smack dab into a grumpy Halt and bleary eyed Will. “Rangers.” He nodded, gave Horace a terrified look and then scurried out of the stales. 

“How long have you been in here?” Halt demanded. 

“Awhile.” Horace gripped his mother’s ring. The glare from Halt didn’t go away. “Sorry. Just got overwhelmed.”

The angry look softened. Halt looked a little sympathetic. “Just don’t go doing that again.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Let’s get going. Castle Araluen is couple days ride from here. The sooner we get there the better. We’re wanting to get to Castle Norgate before nightfall. We need to drop the Baron off and also need a place to stay.” 

“Where is the Baron?” Horace looked around the stable. 

“Speaking with Lord Orman.” Halt jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. He waved down the stablehand who stumbled over to Halt.

He gave Halt a nervous look. “Yes Ranger sir?” He stumbled over his words. Horace gave him thumbs up behind Halt’s back. The stablehand relaxed a little. 

“Get Baron Theo’s horse ready for him.” 

“Yes sir!” The stablehand scrambled over to the horse’s stall. 

Will disappeared into Tug’s stall with a small yawn and left Halt and Horace alone. Halt gave Horace a tired look. “Are you okay?” Halt asked him. His tone softened and he looked genuinely concerned for Horace. 

Horace stopped for a second, blinked, and he felt his shoulders sag. “No. I’m suppose to be this brave general who ended this war. But I’m so scared, I’ve never left Picta and I’m supposed to represent my home in a kingdom that hates me.” Horace couldn’t stop himself from spilling everything to Halt. Halt gave him a sympathetic look. “I just want to go home.” 

Halt took in a deep breath and sighed. “It’s a shitty solution for a shitty situation. Hopefully this situation will be over soon. It’s not supposed to be permanent. I’m not staying in Araluen with you but Will will be there. So you won’t be alone.” 

Horace hadn’t even thought about them leaving him. But he was grateful to know that Will was going to be around him. He nodded and patted Kicker’s side and slowly got ready. He slung his shield over his shoulders. 

Eventually Horace lead Kicker out of the stall, following Will and Halt of the stall. It was nice to see that the cloaks were taken down. The trio stopped in front of Baron Theo and Lord Orman. “I hope that you enjoyed your stay here, General.” Lord Orman’s voice was monotone and he looked dead inside. It made Horace want to chuckle. Especially imagining him next to the Skandians. 

“It was interesting, not going to lie. But I hope that these stays will be more frequent as hostility fades and we bridge relations.” Horace extended his hand. 

Lord Orman took the hand gave Horace a grim smile. “Yes I hope that too. It would be a much nicer place to live in.” 

“Agreed.” Baron Theo shook his head. “This war has brought so much destruction to either sides.” 

“As much as I would like to muddle through the past, we do have to get going Baron. I do believe your wife is waiting for you back at your home,” Halt interrupted them. 

Baron Theo had a lovesick grin. “Ah yes, best not to keep her waiting. She is a little impatient. Thank you for hosting us, Orman. Remember when it comes to Malcom and his people, don’t hesitate to use any funds. They are people of Norgate and deserve to be treated as such.” 

“Of course. I agree.” 

“And make sure that the Skandians don’t go too crazy. We do have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Don’t worry about them.” Orman shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, Horace saw Nils exit a building holding a set of bagpipes and wild grin. there was some muffled laughter. 

Oh no. 

Horace just pretended not to see Nils. He didn’t want to deal with his. 

“Ranger Will?” Lord Orman asked. Will looked up in confusion. “How is the young courier that my cousin essentially kidnapped?” 

“Oh! She’s great. Went back to Castle Araluen. Recovering well. I’ll tell her you say hello.” Will gave Lord Orman a smile. 

“That would be nice. Have a peaceful ride home, Baron.” Lord Orman bowed. 

“Thank you.” Baron bowed back. He got onto his horse and everyone followed his suit. 

As they were riding to the exit, he heard the Skandians start making a ruckus. “General! A little goodbye from your friends here in Mainclaw!” Nils yelled. Horace looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened in horror. Across the square Nils had the bagpipe primed and ready to go. 

What came out was a wail. Horace put his face in his hands. No, a wail was too kind to Nils’ playing. It sounded like a mule screeching before death. Horace tried to keep himself put together until they left the last. Nils’ play still could be heard. When he was safely away from them the castle, Horace broke down in laughter. Halt looked very disgruntled, while Baron Theo and Will looked a little disturbed. “That was so horrible that it's hilarious.” Horace cackled, almost falling off of Kicker. 

“Don’t encourage him.” Halt glared at Horace. Horace could still hear the wail of the bagpipes from here. 

Horace struggled to smother his laughter. “I’m sorry. It’s just the absurdity of it all. If McKentick heard this, he’d…” Horace couldn’t finish the sentence, he was laughing so hard. 

Halt scoffed and shook his head. Horace giggled but continued after the group.   
***  
By nightfall, they had reached the Baron’s home. It was grand, no lie, but it reminded Horace of Shal. The castle wasn’t tall and intimidating like Mainclaw was. The castle, if Horace could call that was small and spread out. Individual buildings were connected with hallways. Most of the castle was one floor.

The layout reminded Horace of the layout of a Scotti village. The rode in through the gate into the main square with a burning fire in the middle of it. There were multiple entrances to those small buildings. Torches lit the walkways. The soft light of the torches reflected in the snow, giving castle an ethereal glow. 

Norgate was the castle, other than Mainclaw but that apparently that was more of a fort than a castle, that was closest to Picta. Horace wouldn’t be surprised if there was influence. 

“You’re late.” A woman, wrapped in a cloak that was pinned on the left shoulder with a large pin in the same style as Horace’s, stepped out a porch and gave the Baron a disappointed look. 

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Baron Theo slid off of his horse, passing the reins to a servant and embraced the woman, who Horace thought was his wife. She smiled and kissed him. 

The woman looked looked familiar. With broad and muscular arms and shoulders clearly marking years of training and thick wavy dark hair. As Horace’s eyes adjusted to the light coming from the fire, he saw that the cloak she wore had the exact same pattern of his. 

Oh. 

That explains why McAngus was so angry with Baron Theo. 

Also explains why Baron Theo has been incredibly kind to Horace and his anger to the Skandians. Well shit. Baron Theo had a daughter too. So that meant Warlord McAngus had a granddaughter. Oh boy. 

Horace slid off Kicker and hesitantly passed the reins to a servant. He felt a little more comfortable with handing off Kicker to people here than at Mainclaw.

“Aila, my dear, I’d like for you to meet General Altman.” Baron Theo slipped an arm around her waist and introduced the two. Well more like reintroduce them. It has been years since Horace last saw her. He had been quite young when she had left. 

“Altman? The son of the Araluen?” She asked, her dark eyes flickered over too Horace, seizing him up. 

Horace bowed. “Yes, that was my father, Warmaiden NioEvanna. It is a pleasure to see you again.” 

She held back a smile and held out her arms. “No need to be formal with me. I’m not exactly a Warmaiden here. Please call me Aila, Horace, was it?” She asked. 

“Yes ma-” Horace caught himself at the last moment, accepting the embrace. Despite not seeing her for years, she felt incredibly familiar. Horace gripped her tightly and closed his eyes. She hummed sympathetically and patted his back. He sniffled and broke the hug. “Sorry, I just-” He was cut off when Aila held up a hand. 

“I understand. Leaving your home for the first time is hard. Come join me for dinner. You too, Rangers. I know you like to sulk in the shadows but join us for one time?” Aila lay a hand on Horace’s arm for comfort while looking over to Halt and Will, who had their hoods up. 

Halt bowed his head, and pulled off his hood. Will looked over to Halt and then pulled off his hood. “We would be honoured, Baronness, but let us take care of our horses first.” 

“I should make sure that Kicker is okay too. He’s one of the only things of Picta that I took with me. If you don’t mind.” Horace looked down to Aila.   
  
“Of course. I understand. When you’re done, meet us in the dining hall. Dinner will be served for you when you’re done,” Aila said. She took her husband’s hand and dismissed them. Horace gave her a quick bow and then followed after Halt and Will. 

He just made sure that Kicker was rubbed down and had hay, and made sure this his things weren’t already destroyed. He ran into the servant carrying his pack. “Would you mind taking my shield and sword up?” 

“No, no, General.” The servant shook his head and took Horace’s equipment and stumbled off. Horace felt bad for burdening the man but he didn’t want to take weapons in the dining hall. It wasn’t directly forbidden by their culture to bring weapons in dining halls but the gods did look down on it as being uncouth, and no one wanted to piss of the gods. 

Also, people drank at dinners and drunk people liked fights. Fighting with weapons was a lot deadlier than with fists. 

Horace waited for Will and Halt to finish up. 

“Hey, so why’d you called the Baroness, ‘Warmaiden NioEvanna’? Wouldn’t her last name be Mc-something? Also, Warmaiden?” Will asked, his head popping out of the stall. 

“Uh well, Aila is Warlord McAngus’ daughter so Warmaiden is her official title. Nionag- means daughter. We shortened it to Nio. Nio now means ‘daughter of’, Scotti woman take their mother’s name as their last name. It’s a way of preserving houses.” Horace shrugged. 

“So you knew her before she got married?” Will asked. 

“Not really. I mean, I knew her. She was one of the Warmaidens. People knew her. She knew my parents. I believe my mother was a mentor for her at that point. I don’t know. I was young.” Horace shrugged. 

“So you are Araluen?” Halt asked. 

“Half. My father left.” Horace ended the conversation. He didn’t want to talk about his heritage. Halt looked like he wanted to press the subject more, but he stopped himself. He gave Horace a little nod and finished rubbing down his horse, which was named Abelard, Horace learned that recently, before stepping out of the stall. 

Will stumbled out quickly. “I’m ready.” 

“Good, let’s go.” Halt hustled Will out of the stables. Horace slowly followed after. He slowly lagged after them. Horace didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to go and talk to Aila. She was a clan member. But part of him wanted to stay with Kicker. 

He was expected to join them for dinner. So Horace went. 

Aila smiled at him as he walked in. “Come join us.” She gestured to the chair next to her. Horace took the chair and settled down. Will and Horace sat on the other side of Baron Theo. “Are you alright?” She asked. 

Horace sighed and accepted the plate from a servant with a nod of thanks. “I miss home. I swear I’m just repeating it consistently but I just can’t get over it. Even being on the front lines wasn’t as bad.” 

“Coming to Araluen was one of the hardest things I did. Leaving my family, the clan behind. It’ll get better,” Aila assured him. 

Horace hoped so. He didn’t want to feel like this for the rest of his life. Or however he long he was going to be in Araluen for. That being said, it might be for the rest of his life because Horace knew that any of the Warlords, maybe except MacArthur, would have the patience to deal with this. 

“The castles were a bit of a shock though.” 

Horace snorted, trying not to shovel food into his mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Mainclaw, that was, that was something.” 

“I know,” Aila agreed. 

Horace saw Will and Halt start whispering to each other about something. Despite sitting at the same table, they felt miles away. They had disconnected themselves from the rest of the conversation. There was feeling deep in his stomach, he felt left out. Which was stupid because Horace wasn’t close to either of them bu,t he felt a connection? Horace didn’t understand his emotions. 

Baron Theo leaned over and took Aila’s hand. “Have you heard from Cora, dear?” Was Cora, which Horace assumed was their daughter, not here in Castle Norgate? Probably not, or else she would have been there greeting them. 

“Yes. Her message came in. There’s not a lot happening. But there is a bit of a buzz around the castle about the Scotti general arriving soon.” Aila gave Horace a sympathetic look. Great. All attention was going to be on Horace. This is exactly what he needed. “Cora’s at Castle Araluen, she’s a lady-in-waiting for the princess. At least at the capital, you’ll have someone you can turn too.” 

They’ll be another Scotti person there. And Will will be there too. So Horace wouldn’t be completely alone. 

“It’ll be nice to have clan member there with me.” Despite being born in Araluen, Cora was still a member of the clan.

“Speaking of clan members. How are your parents?” Aila asked. 

Horace put down his fork and stared at his plate, trying not to cry again. “I lost them to a raid not long after you left. McKentick took me in afterwards.” Probably another reason why he was chosen to go to Araluen. He had no family to go back too. Unlike a lot of generals. 

“Oh, honey.” Aila took his hand and squeezed it in comfort. Horace gave her a weak smile. “What about your sister?” Horace was surprised that Aila remembered his sister. Across the table, Will’s head shot up and he stared at Horace. 

Horace sighed and pulled out his mother’s signet ring from under his shirt. “She didn’t survive long past the raid. I’m the last of my house.” Aila looked like she was going to cry. “Sorry for bringing down the mood. If you excuse me.” Horace stood up and left the table. 

He was alone in the world. He was adrift. 

Horace sighed and sat outside on the porch steps in front of the fire and leaned on his hand. He had hoped that in a grim sense the army would give him a sense of place. It didn’t work because look where he ended up. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Aila asked. 

“Hm?” Horace looked up. She stood above him all wrapped up in her cloak. “Yeah sure. I’m sorry for storming out like that.” 

“Horace, dear, I lived through raising my daughter through her teenage years. That? That was nothing compared to some of her exits.” Aila sighed and sat down next to Horace. “I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories.” 

Horace stared at the fire, his eyes going hazy. From the tears or the light, Horace didn’t know. “I’m the one who found my mom. I found the soldier who killed her bent over my sister’s crib crying because he had taken this newborn baby’s mom from her and realized that she wouldn’t be able to survive without her.” 

Aila took his hand. “You went through something terrible as a child, I do not deny it. It was horrible and should never happen to a boy your age. But do not let your past haunt you. You are a remarkable young man. Becoming a general at such a young age. I know both of your parents would be proud of you.” She reached up and wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. 

“Thank you.” Horace gave her a watery smile. 

For the first time in a long time, Horace felt comforted. He was eternally grateful for McKentick for taking him in after his parents passed on, but he wasn’t the most cuddly parental figure out there. 

“Could you tell me about Cora?”

Aila scoffed and had a nostalgic smile on. “She was a fussy baby. Still is. Never wanted to go far from us. I was surprised when she wanted to go to Castle Araluen to be a lady-in-waiting.”   
***  
Horace was pulled out of bed early in the morning. “Up.” Will poked Horace. Horace groaned and pulled his covers over his head. He didn’t leave this warm cocoon of blankets. He just wanted to stay here. “I will go and get Halt and he will not be pleased.” 

Fuck. Horace pulled the covers off of his head and glared at Will. He looked bright and cheery. Horace really hated him currently. It took him a second to switch his brain to Araluen after speaking with Aila in Pictan almost all night. “I hate you.”   
  
“Breakfast is ready!” Will chirped. 

“Hate, hate, hate,” Horace grumbled as he sat up. He winced when his feet touch the cold floor. 

“Mhm. Chop chop.” 

Horace tossed Will a glare, who just leaned on his bow with a blissful smile. Horace could feel his eyes linger on him as Horace pulled on his boots and then remaining layers. 

“Don’t worry about your equipment. Halt will scare someone into bringing that down for you.” 

Horace shook his head, trying to wake himself up as he followed Will downstairs. Breakfast was simple, which Horace was thankful for. The rich foods that they had last night made Horace feel a little sick. Horace washed his food down with a cup of coffee. Breakfast was a quiet affair, both Will and Horace eating quickly. 

They headed to the stables after breakfast. To Horace’s tired brain’s delight, someone had already saddled Kicker. Halt was there doing up Abelard’s saddle after presumably saddling up Tug. 

Horace very rushed, as he found himself out in the snowy square holding Kicker’s reins. Aila and Theo were out there waiting for them. 

Theo noticed Horace and held out his hand. Horace took it gladly. “Thank you, Baron.” Horace chose to speak in Pictan with him. Theo tilted his head in confusion. “Thank you for treating me with kindness. It’s helped.” 

“I’m glad that I was able to help. Good luck and the best to you.” Theo broke the handshake and gave Horace a smile.   
  
Horace gave him a little smile and moved over to Aila. She pulled him into a tight hug. “Stay safe, dear.” 

Horace held onto her tightly, not wanting to let go. “I will. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself,” he lied, trying to comfort himself more than her. 

Aila smiled and broke the hug. “When you see Cora when you get to the capital, could you give her this?” She asked, holding out a sealed envelope. 

“Of course.” Horace took the envelope and tucked it into a pocket of his cloak. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then stepped back. Horace stepped back and took Kicker’s reins. He watched as Will and Halt say their goodbyes and then they slowly made their way out of the courtyard. Horace looked over his shoulder one last time. Aila waved goodbye to him. Horace waved back. 


	3. Chapter 3

Halt stopped the trio as soon as the castle came into view. Horace gave Halt a quizzical look. They hadn’t talked much over the past couple of days, Horace had started retreating more into himself the further they got from Norgate. Horace wasn’t really in the mood to talk and his companions were more than happy not to talk. Which was surprising, because Will seemed like a chatterbox.

“You should change, General.” Halt spoke softly. Ever since Horace broke down to Halt back in that stable in Mainclaw, Halt had treated him with kid gloves in a sense. Normally Horace would be annoyed by that, but right now he didn’t care. 

“Right. Formality and shit.” Horace rolled his eyes. He got off of Kicker and pulled out his kilt and his cleanest shirt. It wouldn’t matter. He’d be wearing his leather jerkin anyways. Horace tied Kicker to a tree and then disappeared behind a tree. 

The change was quick and a second later Horace was pulling out a small tin of his blue warpaint. Horace stared at his blue-stained fingertips. Soon he’d be representing his whole country. He didn’t even like half of the clans he’d dealt with over the years. 

The paint felt weird as it dried. Horace washed his fingers and pulled his cloak and shield back on. 

“Ready?” Will gave Horace a concerned look. 

“Do I have a choice?” Horace pulled himself back up onto Kicker. 

“Fair.” Will shrugged and trotted after Halt. Horace slowly nudged Kicker to follow. Horace was almost uncomfortably warm in his cloak. It was much warmer down here then in Picta. There was hardly any snow down here. This was like spring temperature in Picta, in the middle of the winter. 

Horace grumbled to himself as they slowly rode towards the town. 

Halt looked over his shoulder and rose an eyebrow at Horace. Almost telling him to sit up straight. Horace grumbled even more and sat up straight. He towered over both Will and Halt and it made him stand out even more. It felt horrible. 

As they rode into the town, no city, this place was huge, people stopped what they were doing and stared at the trio as they rode through. Actually most people were staring at Horace. He stood out like a sore thumb.

They spoke too quickly and such hushed tones that Horace couldn’t pick up on them. It made his stomach roll over in anxiety. They were talking about him but he couldn’t understand them. Horace gripped the reins tightly and steeled his face. He was representing Scotti. He wasn’t going to crumbled under the stares he was getting. 

Will nudged Tug over to Horace. “Don’t worry. They’re not all staring at you. Halt’s pretty famous. Also people aren’t used to Rangers,” he muttered. Horace nodded in response. 

Was Halt really that famous? Horace assumed that Araluens would be accustomed to Rangers. There was a lot of them right? What was Halt famous for? 

Horace stared at the back of Halt’s head, wanting to know what he was famous for. He got distracted when the giant wall loomed above him.   
  
This was wall was almost taller than most of Mainclaw and Mainclaw was huge. How? Why? Something this big just invited greed. The gods noticed these sorts of things and they punished men for their greed. No Scotti would dare climb so high into the heavens. 

The dirty looks that the guards gave Horace made him sick to his stomach. Well, even more sick. They hated Horace. Horace never hated Araluens, just felt kind of indifferent towards them. Sometimes anger but that was mostly directed to his uncle. 

His uncle was an asshole. 

Halt guided Horace over to what Horace assumed to be the stables. Horace slid off of Kicker and guided him over to the stall that the stablehand gestured him to go. Horace felt the stablehand’s eyes on him. 

“Having problems?” Will asked. 

“I just don’t want to leave my pack here. No offence.” Horace decided not to speak Araluen but in the trader’s tongue so if anyone was eavesdropping, they wouldn’t be offended. 

“Ah. Give me a second.” Will disappeared from the stall. Horace shrugged and went back taking care of Kicker. That’s all what he seemed to do recently. Horace didn’t care, as long as Kicker was okay. “Horace!” Horace looked over his shoulder and saw Will and another multicoloured cloaked man. “This is Liam, he’s one of us. He’ll make sure that your things stay safe.” 

“Thank you.” Horace nodded to Liam. Liam gave Horace thumbs up and accepted the pack, and the shield and sword. He shouldn’t bring weapons to his first meeting with the King. “Are you not staying for the night?” Horace asked Halt. 

Halt shook his head. “No. I’ll introduce you to the king, take care of some business but I need to get back to Redmont.” 

Redmont? That sounded familiar, but Horace couldn't place where he’d heard that word before. 

Horace mentally shrugged and followed Halt like a little duckling. Will tagged along too, returning to his cowl up and stoic face. Horace didn’t like this version of Will. This switch between personalities was exhausting. 

The staring was starting to get worse. This time was from all of the nobles in the stupidly fancy clothes. Horace didn’t let his eyes linger on the pretty dresses that the women were wearing. The gaudily bright coloured shirts, doublets? that the men were wearing. Horace has seen some of these outfits when northern clans, who traded with Skandians, came to visit. He didn’t hate them per say but he just felt strange looking at them. They were useless to him. 

Those clothes wouldn’t last very long in Shal. They’d get torn on the tick brush that lived around the village. That being said, they probably thought Horace’s kilt was strange, but he didn’t wear the kilt full time. Not that they’d know. 

Horace looked at the white walls lined with gold of the castle. It was breathtaking, not going to lie, mostly just thinking about all of the labour that went into it. How did they do it? Slave labour? 

Horace was yanked into a small room and told to sit from Halt. Horace did as he was told and sat on a plush red couch. It just swallowed Horace up as he sat down. A far cry from the terrain that Horace has grown used. 

“Everything alright?” Horace asked. 

“Hm? Oh yes. We’re just waiting for the correct time to go in.” Halt dismissed him. Horace shrugged and tried to relax himself. To distract himself, Horace examined the room. There was a fireplace with an iron wrought gate that was molded into the shape of a deer and giant tapestries that hung on one wall. The tapestries were, of course, amazingly well done. One of them showed a battle scene. Against whom? Horace couldn’t tell. All he knew was it was a battle. The other one had a trapped unicorn in it. Did unicorns have to do with Araluen history? His father never mentioned it. 

The rest of the room had white walls and white and gold decoration along the walls. The floors were made of white and black tiles. It was kind of cool looking. 

There were red curtains that matched the sofa that were pulled back to let the natural light in. Horace knocked on a heavy wooden table in front of the sofa out of boredom. There were matching tables across the room. 

Part of Horace wanted Will and Halt to sit with him in those chairs across from him. He felt bad for sitting while they stood. Horace wanted to pace but would feel out of place. 

Horace was pulled out of his examination of his room when one of the doors opened. Another multicoloured cloaked someone came walking in. “You guys are multiplying! Like rabbits!” Horace gestured to the newcomer. Then he immediately regretted saying it. 

Will grinned at Horace while Halt let out a little snort. The newcomer pull his hood down and revealed a mass of red hair. The man rose an eyebrow at Horace. “I do hope you don’t talk to your superiors that way.” 

The man looked like Halt’s age. That’s where the similarities ended. Halt was dark, gruff and grim, which Horace didn’t mind. He spent a lot of time with men like that. This guy had a mass of freckles across his face and his long red hair pulled back in a braid with an undercut. He had eyes that Horace didn’t trust. The kind of eyes that saw everything. 

Like the blind eyes of Gethys, the goddess of divine justice. 

“Aw come on, Crowley,” Will whined.   
  
“The General has a point, Crowley. To most people we are rabbit-esque. Appearing out of nowhere,” Halt defended Horace. 

Crowley conceded with a shrug. “So, you’re the general?” He asked, sizing Horace up and down. 

“Yes sir.” Horace fiddled nervously with a small flower pot that was on the table in front of him. He felt out of place in such a fancy place. 

“Hun.” Crowley look Horace up and down. “Little young, don’t you think?” He looked over to Halt. 

Halt rose unimpressed eyebrow. “We were around his age when the battle of Hackham Heath happened and we chased Morgarath out of the kingdom.” That battle happened years ago. Horace’s father had fought in that battle. He had told Horace about a ranger who had ambushed Morgarath from behind with a calvary force. 

Was that why Halt was famous? 

“Fair.” Crowley nodded. “Come now. Duncan is waiting.” 

Duncan? Oh. Shit. King Duncan.   
  
Horace knew that he had to have an audience with the king but now that he was here mere seconds away from walking into the throne room, it actually hit him. He could barely even talk to his Warlord let alone the king. Warlords and the Scotti were notoriously less rigid with their social structure. Warlords walked the streets with normal people. When one lives in the middle of a forest that actively tried to kill them in any season, social standing very quickly became something unimportant. 

“You okay?” Halt asked. 

“Yeah.” Horace’s voice was a little strangled. “Everything is just hitting me all at once.” 

“We can wait if you want. Duncan will understand.” Will looked between Crowley and Halt. 

“No, I’m good. Let’s just go. Momentum, let’s get the ball rolling.” Horace gestured for them to get going. He wasn’t making much sense and Horace hoped to whomever, he didn’t know what go to pray too, that he wouldn’t be this bad in front of the king. 

Halt stared at Horace for a hot second and then nodded. “Fine.” 

Horace let out a sigh and followed the three rangers, wait two, Crowley had disappeared, into the throne room. It was jaw dropping. A bright red carpet with gold ran down the centre of the room to a dais that was also red and gold. So was the throne and the giant tapestry behind it with some sort of bird embroidered onto it. A balcony looking down to white tiled room was gilded with gold. A double set of columns flanked the side of the throne. 

Sitting on the throne was what Horace assumed to be the King. He looked regal with blonde hair that matched the pale gold crown on top of his head, and bright green eyes. Horace kept his attention on the king because if he looked around to the crowd, he would panic. Everyone’s eyes were on him. 

Horace’s eyes fell onto a figure standing near the throne. Green eyes stared Horace down. They were unblinking and almost enchanting. She didn’t seem to be fazed like other members of the crowd. Horace could hear the murmurings but couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. It infuriated him. 

They stopped in front of the dais. Both Will and Halt lowered their hoods. 

Horace was inches away from the girl. She looked less than impressed. Horace thought that she was stunning in that light blue dress. It went with her light brown hair. Her eyes slid from Horace and looked to King Duncan. 

Horace didn’t know what to say. He tried to struggled to keep his face neutral. 

King Duncan got out of his throne and walked down the steps, one of his assistants tried to protest but King Duncan shot him down with a look. He continued down the dais, not looking at Horace. Yet. “Will, Halt. Welcome back. I see that your mission was a success.” King Duncan’s eyes flickered to Horace and back to the two rangers. 

At the back of the room, near the dais Horace saw Crowley appear seemingly out of nowhere. He gave Horace a little nod of hello and moved next to Sir David, who sent Horace a wink. 

“Thanks to General Altman here. If it weren’t for him then we’d probably be still stuck in Picta fighting off those who didn’t want the war to end.” Halt gestured to Horace. The lady in blue’s eyebrows went up at that statement. 

Horace crossed his arms, wishing that he had his sword on him, it gave him a sense of comfort. King Duncan looked over to Horace and rose an eyebrow at Horace. “Is that so?” He asked. 

“Yes, sir!” Will chirped. 

Horace felt like he should say something but he felt like if he did say something it would come out a little rude. All of this gold and white was starting to get on Horace’s nerves. It just didn’t feel right. 

“Well I must thank you then, General. For aiding my men in their mission and bringing this war to a close and ushering in our kingdoms to a new age of peace and friendship.” There was a smattering of applause once King Duncan finished his speech. 

Sir. David must have have told Duncan. 

Whatever. 

Horace waited until the gathered nobles and knights were done applauding. He needed to set something straight. “I didn’t do what I did for the friendship between our homes.” His voice was quiet. The hall went deadly silent after a ripple of gasps. The lady in blue narrowed her eyes at Horace and crossed her arms. 

King Duncan looked a little shocked, sharing a glance to Halt. Halt’s face was a careful blank. “Oh?” 

“I ended the war for the soldiers. So they wouldn’t have to see their family, their friends, their brothers-in-arms die beside them in combat. I ended the war so that their families back home can have their fathers, husbands, and sons home. Make no mistake, King Duncan. I am here for peace but we are far from friends. Araluen has not proven to the Scotti clans that friendship is on the table.” 

The last war between the Scottis and the Araluens had been provoked by the Araluens, driving the Scotti out of what is now Norgate. The massacre at One Raven’s Pass. 

This war was a little more muddled. Both sides had instigated small conflicts. Horace had heard that a Ranger had been dispatched to take care of the situation and had failed. Miserably. 

Horace didn’t know if that was true but it wouldn’t be the first time a Ranger has meddled with a different kingdom’s affairs. 

Now everyone was starting at Horace. Did he go too far? He didn’t know. If any other general or Warlord had come instead of him, save for McKentick, maybe they wouldn’t have been as nice. 

King Duncan started to nodded, registering what Horace was saying. “I see. Well, I thank you for coming under the banner of peace and I hope that your stay will prove that we are worthy of your people’s friendship.” 

“We shall see, your majesty.” Horace held out his hand. 

King Duncan took his hand shook it. Horace gave him a short bow before breaking the handshake and turning to leave the room. He was going to full into the tempting lull. Just because his prison was a nice one doesn’t mean he wasn’t a prisoner. 

He was not going to let his jailers forget it either. 

The door closed with a satisfying slam behind Horace. 

Once he was back in that room, because honestly, he had no idea where he was supposed to go, he let out a deep sigh. That had drained any energy that he had from him. 

Horace didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to go. 

“Knock knock.” A young woman stuck her head into the room. Horace looked over with a jolt. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry for sneaking up on you, General Altman.”

“Hi.” Horace was a little wary of this young woman. “Uh, who are you?” 

“Alyss Mainwaring. I’m a friend of Will’s. He asked me to make sure that you get settled in properly. He had to go into a meeting.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She wore a white gown with a blue high-collared cape that ended around her waist. 

“You’re a courier.” Horace crossed his arms. He’s heard about Araluen's diplomats. One of them, an older woman with black and silver hair had been there trying to defuse the situation leading up to the war. Also the courier that helped Will take back Mainclaw. Was that her? 

He wasn’t dumb. He bet it wasn’t even Will who asked her to get him settled in. She was probably trying to get information out of him. 

“I am.” She shrugged elegantly. Well at least she was honest. “But I’m doing a favour for an old friend of mine. Shall we?” 

Well, Horace did need to find out where to go. “Alright.” He followed her out of the room. 

“Will told me that you might be more comfortable in the soldier’s barracks. Would that be fine?” Alyss asked. 

The area around the barracks would probably be less grand and simpler, Horace could probably stomach it better. “Yeah, I think that'd be fine.” 

She guided him through the corridors. The further they went the simpler the decor became, and Horace felt better when he started seeing rough stone and wood. It was still a nice place, a lot nicer than what Horace has been living in recently. 

Horace assumed that the lesser nobles and knights lived around here. It was simple. 

“Will also mentioned that you didn’t come with much and asked if we could get some clothes for you. There’s something for you. Just try them on, if they don’t let me know and we’ll get you something.” Alyss pushed open the door to a small apartment. 

Horace walked into a sitting room with simple green and dark brown furniture facing a fireplace. The mantle above the fireplace was solid stone with a few trinkets adorning it. There was a cabinet towards the back of the room that Horace hoped was filled with liquor. It was nice. 

If Isla were here, she’d go all nutty. There were times where Horace would come home from training or while on patrol and find that Isla had come over and reorganized his place. Isla liked to embroider in her free time and according to her, she didn’t have any space left at her place so she’d come and give them to Horace. He didn’t mind the pillows. Or the quilts. It made his home seem more lived in. 

Sitting on the couch were Horace’s pack, shield, and sword. Liam had delivered on his promise. 

“Thanks, Alyss.” Horace sighed, pulling off his cloak and tossed it over his pack. 

“Would you like a tour of the castle later?” Alyss asked. 

“Maybe tomorrow?” Horace just wanted to sit and maybe drink his sorrows away. 

“Of course. Can I get anything else for you? Dinner, a bath?”

Horace hesitated. “Actually those would be great. Thank you, Alyss.” 

She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here to make sure that you’re going to be okay. All of this must be pretty terrible for you and I’m really sorry that you’re in this shitty situation.” She looked like she actually meant it. But Horace wouldn’t be surprised if she was a good actress. 

“I’m just tired from travelling.” That wasn’t a lie. He was exhausted.

Alyss didn’t look like she believed him. “Alright. I’ll have someone bring up water and dinner for you and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Thanks, Alyss.” 

She gave him a bright smile and left Horace alone. The door behind him closed with a soft click. Horace sighed, grabbed his cloak and pack, and headed to the bedroom. He tossed them onto the ground and collapsed onto the bed. 


	4. Chapter 4

Cassandra was gathered in her father’s study alongside her father, obviously, Halt, Will, David, and Crowley. Alyss was supposed to join them as soon as she got the Scotti General settled in his room. The General, well, Cass didn’t know how to feel about him. 

He was young. A lot younger than she thought he was going to be. He was like Cassandra’s age. He looked like a soldier with those broad shoulders and nice strong arms. Stop it. Cassandra scolded herself. He had been rude and rejected her father’s hand of friendship. Saying that Araluen hasn’t shown that they were deserving of friendship. Well, it’s not like the Scotti clans had been partially friendly either. 

She wanted to scoff at him. How come all of the assholes were pretty? There. She’d admit it. She thought he was pretty. With that dark short-cropped windswept hair and mysterious eyes that she wanted to decipher. Asshole pretty boy. 

Everyone’s head turned when the study door opened an Alyss came in. She quickly closed the door and hurried over to the small group. “So?” Will asked. 

“I think he’s retiring for the rest of the day. I offered to show him around but he declined. He looks unhappy.” Alyss shrugged and sat on the table next to Will. He tilted his head up and gave her a pretty smile. She scrunched up her nose at him. 

Cassandra was happy for her friends but she couldn’t help be jealous of them. She wanted someone. Had they even admitted that they liked each other yet? 

“Well that went terribly.” Dad shook his head, downing back the whiskey in his glass. Crowley agreed with him. 

“To be honest, that went a lot better than I thought it would.” Halt completely disagreed with Dad. He crossed his arms and leaned against a wooden table. 

“Why is that, Halt?” Dad rose an eyebrow at the grizzled ranger.

“For one, out of all the Scotti generals to be have chosen, he was the most polite of them all. If one of the others had been sent, they would have sworn you out of your own throne room.” 

“I agree with Halt. Look, we’ve been traveling with Horace and he’s a good man. But I gotta agree with him. We’ve managed to escape the war without much of a dent to our forces but the Scotti haven’t and Horace has been on the front lines pretty much the whole time. He’s seen everything happening almost in front of him. He’s right to be angry at us. We haven’t done anything to prove that we’re allies,” Will picked up where Halt left off. 

“He knew about Keren. And I am sure that he heard what happened at the pass. Not to mention the night attacks, he was probably there.” Halt stroked his beard. 

The room went quiet. Everyone knew what Halt was talking about. One of the more zealous generals had decided to take his own approach to the war and raid Scotti camps at night. The results had been horrifying. Cassandra had been sick when she heard about it. He had attacked unarmed men who didn’t stand a chance against the slaughter that had befallen them. 

She couldn’t even begin to understand the horrors Horace had gone through. 

“He was rather polite to me. A little standoffish but I think that’s because he knew I was a courier.” Alyss shrugged. 

“Your majesty, you must remember that Horace isn’t here voluntarily. He was probably hoping to go home and yet he is here in a Kingdom that for most part hates his guts. He is a rather honourable young man. When he thought we were being attacked in Grimsdell Woods, his first instinct was to protect Baron Theo,” David defended Horace. 

Baron Theo was a kind man. Cassandra has always enjoyed the man with his soft spoken voice and kind eyes. He was not a fighter. It was a little amusing that one of the fiefs that was the most turbulent had a pacifist for a baron. But he was kind and his daughter Cora was cheerful company. 

“I do believe that Horace has a personal grudge against Araluen,” Halt mused. 

“Why’s that?” Crowley asked. He’d been rather silent, letting Halt and Will dictate how things go. 

“His father is Araluen. He is Araluen. Speaking the language fluently and everything. His father must have been born in this kingdom but, for some reason, gone to Picta.” 

Why? Why would someone want to leave Araluen and out of all of the places, why go to Picta? 

Dad frowned as tried to piece together all the scattered pieces of evidence. “So what do we do?” 

“Let him adjust at his own pace. Let him get over the war. He’s exhausted and surrounded by people who spent a year trying to kill him!” Will waved a hand. 

“Agreed.” Will beamed at Sir David. 

“So we let him be?” Dad asked. 

“Why poke at an angry dog?” Halt shrugged. 

Will nodded in agreement. “Oh, also, Crowley!” He pointed to Crowley. Crowley rose an eyebrow at Will. “There’s going to be a troop of Scotti men coming over the border, escorting a bunch of our soldiers to Mainclaw. I don’t remember what happened to the ranger stationed in Norgate but he should notified, because I doubt that the Scotti General McKentick isn’t going to be pleased to be shot at when he’s returning our men.” 

  
“That certainly wouldn’t help further negotiations,” Cassandra pitched in. 

“I will make sure that doesn’t happen.” Crowley stroked his chin. 

“Hold up. What?” Dad asked. 

“You can thank Horace for this, actually,” Halt explained. “After the battles, the Scotti go back to get their injured, they picked up our men. Apparently the McAngus clan has been the host to injured Araluen soldiers. Warlord McAngus promised to go through to the other Warlords to get their Araluen prisoners and free them.” 

“Suppose I should thank him for that,” Dad mused. 

“Do it in a bit,” Halt advised. He groaned and stood up. “I should go. Arald and Pauline are waiting for me.” 

“Best not to keep her waiting.” Dad agreed. 

Halt gave dad a grim smile and nodded to Will. “Don’t get into too much trouble.” 

“Aw.” Will pouted. 

Halt glared at Will and then disappeared out of the door. Dad sighed and put his hands in his face. “Go. All of you. I just need sometime to think.” 

“Of course, your majesty.” Alyss slid off of the table and took Will’s hand, pulling him out of the office. 

“Can I help you at all, daddy?” Cassandra asked. She hated seeing her father with all of this pressure on his shoulders. 

“No.” Dad sighed. “Go enjoy the rest of the day. Be a carefree young adult for once.” 

“You know that being carefree has never been on my cards. Seriously, dad, I want to help. I know that you want to protect me but I’m ready to start taking on more responsibility. I know that I couldn’t help that much with the Scotti as things went crazy really fast but … please, dad. Let me help you.” 

Dad sighed and gave her a tired smile. “You remind me so much of your mother.” 

“What? Was she a stubborn shit?” 

“More than Halt if you can imagine that.” Dad chuckled. 

“Impossible.” Cassandra didn’t like talking about her mom. She didn’t even have any memories of her. To her, her mom was just a person that people liked to talk about around her. She didn’t have connection with her. 

Dad sighed and rubbed his face. “Go for now, dear. There’s not a lot you can do. I just need to think.” 

“Alright daddy. Just don’t shut me out okay? You’re all I have.” 

“I promise.” His promise didn’t feel real. There was an empty look behind his eyes that made him feel lifeless. He wasn’t the same joyous figure that she remembered from her childhood. She felt so lonely. 

Cassandra put on a brave smile and gave him a little nod. “Alright daddy. I’ll see you later, then.” She left him alone. She closed the door behind her and the smile dropped.   
  
Being a princess was hard. 

It didn’t help that two of her closest friends were gone most of the time. Will worked out of Redmont half of the time and Alyss went where she was needed. Cassandra was stuck here. Doing princess duties. 

Cassandra sighed and took the backstairs. She liked being a princess, she liked her dad, but there were times where she wanted to leave and go on adventures like Will.   
  
She climbed the wooden steps to her floor. Most of her rooms took up the top floor. The royal family’s quarters took up the entire top floor. Cassandra wondered where Horace’s rooms were. Not that she cared. Just so she could stay away from him. She slammed opened the door to her room and heard a yelp. 

Sitting on one of the sofas of her living room was Cora, really her only lady-in-waiting. She was the only one who stuck around. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she scrambled up. Cassandra waved her off. “Don’t. Princess time is over, I just want to be Cassandra right now, you know.” 

Cora was used to Cassandra to metaphorically rejecting her title and just pretending to be a normal person for once. Cora shrugged and sat back down, picking up her hoop. “Everything alright, not-princess Cassandra?” Her voice had a bit of a musical tone to it that Cassandra enjoyed. 

Cassandra sighed and dramatically collapsed onto her couch, her head near Cora’s lap. Cora looked over and rose an eyebrow at Cassandra. She was amused. “I was just in a meeting with dad and a few others. It didn’t end as well as I had hoped.” 

“Hm. Was this meeting about the Scotti General that arrived and boldly announced to the whole assembly that the Scotti clans weren’t friends with Araluen?” Cora asked, pulling on a thread. 

“Yeah.” Cassandra sat up. 

She had been really disappointed with how things ended up. Horace had been so angry. Deep down, Cassandra had hoped to become friends with the general who came, kind of like how she’d become friends with Erak. 

Cora hummed and did a few points. “That is a tricky thing with dealing with a Scotti clan. They have a hard time moving their pride over to come to a deal. They’re all very stubborn, not willing to change. Not willing to forget when your ancestors did to them. But you know, if you do manage to come to an accord with a clan and they agree to come to some sort of treaty, they will honour it until death or till it naturally dissolves. They take pride in their honour and oaths. Being an Oathbreaker is the worst thing a Scotti can be. Even murder can be justified in their eyes depending on the case. But breaking your oath?” Cora shook her head. 

How did she know this? In preparation of the arrival of the general, Cassandra has been poring over any texts talking about Picta but there almost nothing. Almost no texts. Yet here was Cora spitting out of information. 

“Cora, how do you know this?” 

Cora looked a little uncomfortable. “I’m from Norgate. Despite the myth, there are a fair amount of Scotti people who live there. My dad’s got an adviser of Scotti descent. I guess I picked up things?” She shrugged. 

“Hun.” Cassandra guess she should have gotten that. According to David, Horace had instinctively tried to protect Baron Theo. “So what should I do?” 

“I don’t know. Let him be?” Cora hummed uncertainty. 

Cassandra didn’t want to do that. She didn’t like sitting and waiting. She wanted to go and do something to get him feel at home.   
***  
Cassandra intercepted Alyss before she went over to Horace’s quarters. She decided that she should show Horace around, as it should be the duty of the hostess to show the guests around.   
  
Alyss didn’t look like she agreed with Cassandra. “Cass, honey, I know that you feel left out with all of this but I doubt that Horace wants to be forced to talk to someone new. I would have asked Will to do this but Crowley has Will doing something for him.” 

“Alyss, I just want to help. Please?” Cassandra gave Alyss her puppy dog eyes. 

“Alright.” Alyss sighed. “I’ll be in my office if something goes wrong. I’ve got paperwork up to my eyes.” 

“Thank you, Alyss.” Cassandra kissed her cheek. 

Alyss lovingly rolled her eyes. “Don’t overwhelm him, Cass. He’s still jumpy.” 

“I won’t! I promise!” Cassandra started down the hall. She waved before turning the corner. She couldn’t help but grin. She was going to get that asshole pretty boy on her side. She was going to make him see that Araluen wasn’t a bad place to be. 

Cassandra marched down the halls with a purpose. She’d never really been down here. She trains where battle school students train, other times in the woods depending on what Crowley wants to her do on that day, but she didn’t come through in the halls where some of the full time soldiers lived. 

The decor, which was a little boring in her opinion, reminded her of Skandian architecture. Stone and wood. 

Torches lit the ways as the natural light was at a minimum. There was a minimal windows along the walls. She had reached the fort part of the castle. It was a little depressing. Why would someone want to live in a place where the feeling was dark and grim, where there was a feeling that they were going to be attacked all the time? 

Now which one was his? Cassandra frowned at the almost identical wooden doors. 

She stood in front of one of them, with lighting spilling from under the door and was pretty sure that it was this one. 

Time to shine. 

Cassandra smoothed out the lilac dress she was wearing, purple was her favourite colour and it gave her strength, and tossed back her loose hair. Okay. Let’s go. She hesitantly knocked on the door, her heartbeat in her ears. 

Distantly she could hear a chair being scrapped back as someone stood up. 

Stay calm Cassie. Happy thoughts. Her coming home to daddy after being in Skandia. Happy thoughts.   
  
Her stomach was in her throat when the door opened and was met with an unimpressed look. Horace looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot like he had been crying for a considerable amount of time and he looked like he had woken up. His dark hair was pressed against his forehead and his shoulders were slumped with exhaustion.   
  
“Um hello.” Cassandra gave him a bright smile. 

“Hi? Can I help you?” Horace asked, looking like he was searching for the reason why Cassandra was here. He wasn’t wearing the skirt, no, Cora told Cassandra that they were called kilts, that he was last night. Shame. That kilt really did him some favours. Today he wore a nice red shirt with a steep neckline with gold thread woven throughout and a pair of nice black pants. He kept it simple. She could respect that. 

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Princess Cassandra.” She held out her hand. 

“General Horace Altman.” He took her hand, still looking incredibly confused, and shook it. “But I guess you already knew that.” 

“Right. So Alyss had to so something for work, so she asked me to give you a tour. And who better to get a tour from than the person who’s grown up here?” Cassandra batted her eyelashes at him. 

The confused look was gone and Horace kind of just looked dead inside. Cassandra understood that feeling. She was so tired. “Right, right,” he mumbled, moving away from the door. “Come in.” Cassandra took a great step into his rooms.

The simplicity of the apartments reminded Cassandra of one of the Ranger’s cabins. Nothing super crazy. Or an insane amount of throw pillows. It was Cassandra’s one weakness. They were just so pretty. There were some signs of Horace moving in. On the mantel was the cloak that he wore yesterday that was folded up all nicely and sword and its scabbard were laying on it. The sword itself looked worn but well taken care off. Propped up in a corner was a battle worn shield. 

Tucked in the corner was a small cabinet Cassandra knew was a liquor cabinet. Guest apartments, like such was stocked with liquor, it was a way of showing off how that the Araluen royal family could take afford to spoil their guests. On top of the cabinet was an empty bottle on its side. 

So the bloodshot eyes weren’t because he was upset and crying. He was just hungover.   
  
Wow. So the rumours were true. Scottis did like to drink and it seemed that Horace didn’t stray far from that pass. 

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting ‘lyss until later,” Horace mumbled, running a hair through his messy hair. “I’ll be right back.” He stumbled into the bedroom, leaving Cassandra alone. 

Cassandra hated that she was intrigued about this man. He didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about her or her title. People, usually men, who approached her tended to stumble over her title and just made everything awkward. 

Horace? He barely even acknowledged her title. Not even Will or Alyss, her two closest friends, were like that. They sometimes tripped over their words around her. 

Were the Scotti that indifferent to royalty? 

She bit her lip and looked around the room. On the dinner table, was a folded up worn piece of parchment. Interesting. Had one of his superiors sent to him?

Her eyes flickered the bedroom where Horace still was and then picked up the folded parchment. It felt brill in her hands as she unfolded it. The ink was faded into an elegant scrawl. Cassandra frowned as she tried to read the scrawl. She couldn’t read it. She recognized the letters but not how they were arranged. Any indication of what the note was about was the lipstick print at the bottom of the page and the heart next to the name. 

Oh.

Was this was from his girlfriend? Or wife?

Cassandra’s stomach churned. Had they really taken someone from straight from the battle here? Had he really not gotten a chance to say goodbye? 

She heard Horace coming back into the living room. 

Shit. 

She folded the parchment back up and put it on the table. She laced her hands together and looked at the sword on the mantel to try to make it seem like she wasn’t snooping in his things.

His face darkened a little, so she didn’t think that it worked too well. Horace picked up the piece of parchment and put it with the sword. 

“Ready?” Cassandra asked. 

“Don’t think that I have much of a choice, denying the crown princess and all.” There was a hint of amusement in the curl of the corners of his mouth and the dark of his eyes. Did he find this amusing? She bristled in annoyance and Horace’s eyebrows went up. He was intentionally provoking her. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra could picture Alyss rising an eyebrow at her. Cassandra pushed past the anger that was pooling in her stomach and straightened herself. “If you don’t wish to join me, then you don’t have to. I understand if you don’t wish too.” 

If that stupid speech he gave yesterday was any indication. 

She shivered under the heavy gaze of his dark brown eyes as he stared at her, assessing what she had said. She should get used to it. She is going to have to get used to that. 

Horace sighed and broke eye contact, his eyes flickering to his sword and back. “No, I think that I should. Get to know my new home and such.”

Cassandra knew that when he said home, he meant prison. They could have easily thrown him in a prison. Yet here he was, in a nice apartment furnished by the royal family, probably to be given an allowance. She tried not to get angry at this. They could be a lot more generous. 

“If you’d follow me then,” Cassandra chirped, trying to smile. She nervously left the room and fiddled with a ring to calm her down. 

Horace didn’t try to strike a conversation with her, in fact he straight up ignored her. He looked around the boring walls in feigned interest. 

Cassandra lead him outside to the battle school. They were up in the stands where people can come and watch knights-in-training practice. She thought that it might be a good place to start. He was a warrior after all. 

“So this is the Battleschool. Where our knights go and train and such.” Cassandra waved her hand. 

Horace paused and watched as their swords clashed and one of their sword slide down to the cross guard of his opponent’s sword. The first knight grabbed the lower hand of the other knight and then used the hand holding the sword to push down on his opponent’s sword, forcing him to drop the sword, and the first knight catching the falling sword. 

It was honestly impressive. They must be upper years. Sometimes when she was bored, she’d come here and watch as they trained. She liked learning about how knights train. 

“Don’t go stealing our tactics,” Cassandra joked. The joke landed flat and she regretted saying that. 

Horace shook his head. “These are standard moves. There’s not much to learn from about tactics from your battle schools.” He looked over to her for a second but it felt so much longer as his eyes froze her to the spot before looking back to the knights. “Besides, I’m all too aware of your tactics.” 

Right, the night attacks. 

Cassandra sighed and clasped her hands. “Horace?” She asked. She remembered that Cora told her that Scottis valued honour over almost everything. Horace looked over with an eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, for those night attacks. We did not sanction those and we did not give you a fighting chance. It was scummy and it wasn’t very honourable of us.” 

Horace pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. Cassandra noticed a scar running up his neck. It was loud and ugly and looked like it had recently healed. His eyes looked a little wet. “Thank you, princess,” he mumbled. 

Hesitantly, Cassandra moved closer to him and gently touched his arm. She pointedly ignored that his whole arm seemed to be solid muscle. He looked down to her hand and then up to her face. He only held her eyes for a second before looking back to the battle field. 

“They attacked my outpost first.” Horace was quiet, his eyes straining on the new knights fighting.   
  
“I’m so sorry.” Cassandra didn't know what else to say. 

“My men barely stood a chance. The ones who made it out, barely did. It was a bloodbath.” 

Cassandra thought back to the battle against the Temujai. It had been the first battle that she’s ever been through. The battle against Morgarath didn’t count. Erak had kept her and Will as far as possible from the battle as possible. Even in her position high up on the cliff with all of the archers, Cassandra couldn’t escape the sounds of death, the screams of pain and blood. There had been so much blood everywhere. She couldn’t even imagine what it would have been like after being pulled from her sleep, it being dark and her mind still asleep. It was her worst nightmare. 

When Cassandra looked down, she saw that their hands were intertwined. Horace struggled to keep his emotions neutral. He looked less like the angry general that she first saw and like a scared kid. 

Cassandra dropped her hand from his and straightened her dress. “Why don’t we move on?” 

“Good idea.” The flicker of sadness vanished and the neutral yet angry look reappeared. The angry look was hollow though. He just looked defeated. 

Cassandra decided to take him to the kitchens, that’s what he’d want to know. She liked to go to the kitchen and get food when she was upset. Maybe if Chef Sam was in a good mood, he’d slip her and Horace some cookies. 

On their way there, she pointed out the library, a few studies, not actually sure what else to point out to him. There wasn’t much. Just a lot of wings for the administrators for work and a lot of different courts for different occasions and private suits. Despite being a princess Cassandra still got confused on social affairs. She’d take him through gardens after. 

“And this is the kitchen. Tada!” Cassandra waved her hands at the busy room. She knew it! She knew that the kitchens would relax him. Who wouldn’t? It’s where the food was made! She saw Horace seemed to relax a little. “Hi, Sam!” She waved. 

Sam, a burly looking man from years of carrying bags of flour, stopped his yelling his subordinates and smiled brightly at Cassandra. “Ello, princess. What canna I do for you?” 

“You have any cookies for us?” Cassandra batted her eyelashes at him. 

Sam let out the full belly laugh that she loved. “Of course I do! What chef would I be if I dinna make cookies for my favourite customer. Give me a second would ya?” Cassandra nodded and slid back to Horace, giving him a bright smile. 

The smile he gave her seemed incredibly happier than she’s ever seen her but there was still an aura of sadness there. 

If anything, Sam’s cookies were going to pull him out of his funk. She guaranteed it. 

“Here you go princess!” Sam dropped a wrapped up handkerchief in her hands. Cassandra’s mouth watered at the idea of the cookies inside. 

“Thank you, Sam!” Cassandra yelled over her shoulder as she grabbed Horace’s hand and pulled him out go the kitchen. It was a lot cooler in hall. 

“Cookies?” Horace asked, his eyebrows raised. 

“You know, sometimes you need to enjoy the small things in life.” Cassandra poked him in the arm. He nodded as he agreed with her. 

Cassandra led him outside, around the the back through the gardens. The gardens was a bit of an understatement. They were huge. Actually there was a small village towards the large acre of land that some of the staff and their families lived. 

When they first stepped out of the castle and onto the patio, Horace immediately looked overwhelmed. Due to generations of her family living here and wanting to add their own little piece to the lands, the gardens were extremely complicated. 

One the the patio was two oval pools side by side that were filled with koi fish. On each side the square patio were steps that lead to different sections of the gardens. Both the left and right side were almost identical, both on a gently sloping hill with two small rectangular gardens then a large square of trees that blocked the semi-circle fountain that was filled with statues of Araluen’s old gods. 

But that’s not where they were going. 

Cassandra guided Horace down to the steps in front of them, navigating through the hedges and ignoring the massive hedges towering beside them. For some reason, a lot of her ancestors had liked mazes, as there was a large section that were just mazes made out of hedges and trees, and in the middle of the said hedges were small fountains. 

They eventually came to an other oval fountain that just in front of the grand canal. Past the grand canal was the royal forest, where people went hunting. There was an assortment of benches there and most people didn’t come back this far. No one wanted to walk that far, especially pretty ladies with nice heeled shoes. 

Cassandra dramatically dropped into a bench and patted for Horace to join. He did without complaint. Or without like any words. Since the battle school, Horace hasn’t said anything. 

“Cookie?” Cassandra asked, holding it one out. 

Horace took it and stared up at the castle and the grounds in front of them in quiet contemplation. 

“Something wrong?” 

“No.” Horace shook his head. “Just never seen something so big before.” 

“You guys don’t have castles?” Cassandra would have thought that a kingdom that gives its leaders the title ‘warlord’ would have castles.   
  
“No. The gods would punish the greed of the man who dared to climb so high.” Horace bit into the cookie and brightened up a little as he ate it. “Besides, it would be a waste of time.” Her family wasn’t greedy. They’ve just lived here for a long time. Lots of construction had gone on over the years. 

“Hmm? Why?” Cassandra asked, eating her cookie. Why would castles be a waste of time? They’re easily defendable and could gather everyone up in the castle. Did the Scotti live in huts or something? 

Horace looked over to her and back to the castle. “Borders shift depending on wars and treaties. Uprooting and moving to a new home is nothing new. Building and abandoning a castle would be a waste of time.” 

“Seems rather sad, is it not? Leaving your home behind?” Cassandra asked. 

“We don’t put value on material items. They can be replaced if needed. We put value on our families around us and our memories.” Horace gripped the heavy iron ring that he wore on his left ring finger. 

Cassandra didn’t know if this was a dig on her or not. She stared at her cookie and tried not send back a snappy retort. It was a reflex at this point to snap at people. She took in a deep breath and let it go. “I couldn’t imagine living like that. I think almost every generation of my family has lived here.” 

“It’s okay. A little gaudy in my opinion.” 

“Well, it’s not for everyone,” Cassandra said stiffly. Just because he grew up in a hut, doesn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate it. 

Horace finished his cookie and stood up, wandering over the canal. 

“Whatcha doing?” Cassandra grumpily pulled out another cookie and bit into it while glaring at him. 

Horace stared into the water for some stupid reason. “Just trying to see if this lake serves any purpose or if it is just a useless decoration.” He looked over to her and then back to the lake. 

“Really?” Cassandra asked. Horace rose an unimpressed eyebrow at her. Ugh. She hated when people gave her that stupid eyebrow. “Must you shit on everything around you? Like, lighten up, why don’t you?” 

That dark look appeared on his face as Horace stared at her. “Well, I’m sorry, but it’s hard to ‘lighten up’ when I’m imprisoned in this gold-encrusted hell,” he snapped. 

“Gold-encrusted hell? Just because we don’t live in a stupid hut in the middle of the fucking woods doesn’t mean you get to insult my home! If you’d like, I can arrange for you to stay in an actual prison!” 

“I would much rather that to this masquerade of a pretend friendship. At least I’d know where I stand with you and your father, princess.” That last word came out in a snarl. 

Cassandra stood up, glaring at him with tears of frustration in her eyes. They were having such a good time and he had to ruin it. Stupid asshole man. She was the crown princess of Araluen and he was a just a general of some backwater clan. She didn’t have to deal with him. 

With as much as anger that she could summon up, she glared at Horace until he seemed to wither in his spot and then turned on her heels and stormed back to the castle. She was not going to put up with his bullshit. 

She should have him thrown in a prison. Then he’d realize how nice he got it. She was trying to make his stay as comfortable as possible but he just had to be a little bitch about it. Yeah, she felt terrible about having to do this, but it needed to be done. It was the best out of many worse options that secured the safety of Araluen. 

Asshole Scotti. 


	5. Chapter 5

Horace stood still, staring at the spot where the princess had stormed off, trying very hard not to let the tears of anger seep out. He just, what did he want? Horace didn’t know. He had hoped that he could have figured something out last night but he ended up drinking a bottle of something and crying while rereading the letters that Isla sent. For some reason, Horace liked hurting himself. It made him cry that Murray or whomever had packed his things, made sure that he had those letters. Along some other trinkets that they had pooled together and stuck in his bag. Horace had stashed it with the pin that the stablehand had given him. 

When the princess had shown up at his door instead of Alyss, Horace had agreed to go because, honestly, he was curious about her. She had been his lady in blue. Turns out, she was just spoiled. 

Well, maybe not spoiled. The princess had been strangely comforting and it was nice to hear that the general that had planned that attack hadn’t done it on the command of the king. It didn’t completely ruin his perspective of his other half. 

She just didn’t understand. She didn’t understand that it didn’t matter how nice the place that they stuck Horace, it was still a prison. Sure, Horace could have been kinder when it came to the comment about this strange cross-like lake, but it just seemed so wasteful. 

The gods taught them to not take more than they needed from the earth and make sure that they didn’t leave much of a trace.   
  
What the Araluens did was so unheard of. 

Horace wondered if this what his father felt like when he first came to Picta. Gods almighty, his father would be so disappointed in Horace if he was here now. He made someone cry and insulted the princess of his birthplace. 

He should apologize. He was out of line. 

Cassandra was just trying to make Horace feel better. 

Horace wiped his eyes and started the long trek back to the castle. He didn’t even know where to find her. The place was so huge. Horace saw a figure leave the castle and head right to him. Oh no. Wait. Horace recognized the figure. 

It was Alyss. 

“Hello.” Horace nervously approached her. 

Alyss gave him a gentle smile and clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m not sure who’s worse for wear. You or Cassandra.” 

Horace sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I went too far, I was way out of line and..” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He needed to make it up to her. 

“I get it.” Alyss’s smile was still there. It was a little unnerving. She let out a little sigh and motioned for him to walk with her. Horace didn’t really want to but did anyways. “Look, I love Cassandra with all my heart, she’s a brave woman and will make a great queen some day.” 

“But?” Horace asked, as they started to walk between the hedges. The hedges seemed to swallow the world up. Horace didn’t like how tight the space was between the hedges. Horace felt his throat closing up around him. Horace tried focusing on Alyss and ignoring the feeling that was crawling up his back. 

“But, she’s irritatingly stubborn sometimes. We butted heads when we first met. It took us a while to get our feet on the ground. Cass was trying to make you feel at home, but I think due to the nature of her title and what she’ll inherit, she’s got a very narrowed view that’s just focused on the crown and what she can do for it, and not the people around her. She’s getting better, I swear.” 

Horace crossed his arms and stared at the ground. “I don’t think she realizes that I don’t want to be here and no matter how nice things are, it’s not going to change. Imagine if she had to go live with a Scotti clan for an indefinite amount of time.”   
  
Alyss looked a little queasy at the thought. 

That wasn’t what Horace was expecting. He stopped in his tracks and tilted his head in confusion. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Alyss waved him off. She still looked queasy. 

Horace might know what she was thinking about. That Araluen traitor must have filled her with lies. 

“You were the courier at Mainclaw. The one who helped Will take back the fort from Keren and MacHaddish.” Horace tried to broach the subject, not wanting to spook her off. 

She sniffled, keeping her eyes ahead. “Yes. I was. I hope you don’t blame Will for MacHaddish’s death. How’d you know about Keren?” 

Horace shrugged. “I don’t blame him. It was war, we do what we do. MacHaddish understood that before he went into war. Some of his men managed to get out and made their way to our camp. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Alyss.” 

Alyss gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?” 

The difficulties of having to think in a different language was that Horace had to really concentrate to get his words out properly. Horace sighed. “From what I heard of the traitor, he poisoned his uncle and essentially took you captive. Now, you Araluens might think that us Scottis are savages, but holding a woman and a diplomat captive like he did goes against our entire moral code.”

“You let your diplomats free in times of war? Would it not make more sense to hold them captive to end the war sooner?” Alyss asked. 

“I guess?” Horace shrugged. No one would dare hold their diplomats captive. Their diplomats were Warmaidens, wives or daughters of the Warlords. To hold a Warmaiden captive would ensure the death of most of a clan because the attacking Warlord would not hold back against his family’s captor. “Most of our diplomats are women and to attack a woman in times of battle is an affront. Geyths would punish them. She doesn’t let injustice go unpunished. I hope Keren got what came for him.”

There was a small smile on Alyss’ face. She brushed back a loose strand of hair and Horace decided to push his luck. 

“I doubt that if he managed to get out of Mainclaw that he would last long in Picta. No one likes an Oathbreaker. Doubt that he would have lasted a week without a knife finding its way to his back.” 

Alyss sniffled and started walking again, exiting the hedge maze, thank goodness, and walking alongside a small garden that looked a little dead. “He said that he was going to go buy a Baron title in Gallica. He wasn’t going to tay in Picta.” 

“And how do you think he was going to get to Gallica? Through Araluen?” 

“You have a point.” Alyss’ voice was quiet. She sat down at the edge of a fountain and looked a little lost. Her pale blonde hair was tugged at by the low wind. Horace sighed and sat next to her. Now, he was used to comforting friends - Isla tended to get emotional very quickly - but he had no idea how to comfort her. “You know, he wanted me to join him. Break my oath the courier service and be his wife in Gallica.”   
  
“Gross.” 

That drew out a little chuckle from Alyss. “Yes. According to him it was either that or be sold as a slave so some clan.” 

Slave? Scotti clans did not take slaves. Not even the rich ones. It was a horrible practice and honestly most clans did not have the resources to take on slaves. “Alyss, we don’t have slaves. I have no idea what Keren was talking about.” 

Alyss perked up, her dark brown eyes staring into Horace’s face like he was a puzzle she was trying to decipher. She frowned as she started thinking. “But Keren said he’d hand me over to the Scotti to be a slave once they took control of the fort.”   
  
Horace shook his head. “He must have lied. You might have been taken prisoner but in all honesty you would have probably been released. Maybe that wouldn’t happen. MacHaddish would have sent you us.” 

“Why’s that?” Alyss paused while fiddling with a ring. 

“We kept injured Araluen soldiers. You would have arrived and eventually we would have figured out what was going on and you would have been sent home. Even McFerwin, an aggressor of this war, would have respected this.” 

Alyss nodded along to his words. “I see. We did hear about what you did for the soldiers. That was kind of you.” 

Horace felt uncomfortable under the praise. He shouldn’t be praised for doing something that should be the norm, treating the soldiers with kindness and such. Everyone should do that. He shrugged in response. 

“Hey, guys.”  
  
Horace jumped up, swearing up a storm when he heard Will’s voice behind him. Horace pointed at Will. “Don’t do that,” he threatened. 

“Sorry.” Will didn’t look sorry. His eyes flickered over to Alyss and then to Horace, his eyes narrowed at the closeness of them. “What’s going on? And why’s Cass all murderous looking?” Will eyed Horace warily. 

The guilt settled back into Horace’s stomach. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “That was my fault. I, uh, crossed a line.” 

“Don’t worry about it Will, I’ll speak with her later.”   
  
“Oh. I see.” Will nodded. His wary look loosened. “Ok.” 

Horace looked between the two of them. “Is the princess snapping at people a common occurrence?” 

“Yes and no. She just gets frustrated easily when she doesn’t get things right the first time. She’ll come around. Don’t worry.” Will gave Horace a thumbs up. It didn’t seem as enthusiastic as ones in the past. Horace wondered how Alyss and Will were friends with princess.

“May I ask a question, Horace?” Alyss asked, standing up and moving over to Will. Will gave her a sappy look that Horace wasn’t sure if Alyss picked up. Her eyes were trained on Horace. 

“Uh, you can ask but I might not be able to answer it.” Horace didn’t feel very comfortable talking about his home. He was proud but he was also concerned when he was asked about his home when it came to Araluens. 

Will shifted slightly like he was ready to get into a fight. Had Horace done anything to offend him? Alyss, they, it wasn’t like that. 

“Do you know why your father left Araluen?” Alyss asked. 

“Why do you want to know that?” Horace’s hackles were raised. Will narrowed his eyes at Horace. 

“Oh well, both Will and I,” Alyss touched Will on the shoulder and he seemed to melt at her touch and that sappy look returned. “Grew up in the Redmont fief.” 

“Yeah, Will mentioned that. The ward?” 

Alyss nodded. “Yes. We grew up in Castle Redmont in the ward. So we saw different lords and ladies and knights come around and there was a lord Altman. He’s not the nicest man but he’s still a lord. Altman isn’t a very common last name. I was just wondering if there was any connection.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. 

That’s where his father was from. Horace twisted his father’s ring in his hand. He didn’t know much but he knew his uncle was still there. But there was no way that his father could have been a lord.

Will just stared at Alyss. “How do you remember that?” He asked, looking dumbfounded. 

“Will! You should know this! You’re a ranger for the fief!” Alyss looked flabbergasted. 

“I’ve been busy! I haven’t been back for awhile. Cut me some slack.” Will pouted at Alyss. Her terse look softened. Where these two a couple? They seem to act like they were a couple.  
  
“Just this once.” Alyss gently poked him in the nose. Will’s face melted into a smile. It felt like sunshine. Horace felt affected and it wasn’t even directed at him. “So?” Alyss looked back to Horace.   
  
Horace knew the answer but wasn’t going to tell them. This was personal. So Horace shook his head. “I don’t really know. My father died when I was little. He wasn’t exactly clamouring to tell little ten year old me why he left. From what I’ve gotten out of others, he left because of his younger brother.” He added on the last part because he felt bad for not telling Alyss. 

Alyss nodded sagely. “Would you like to know?” She asked. 

“No.” Both Will and Alyss looked shocked at the answer. Horace sighed. “Look, who my father was before he came to Picta doesn’t matter. He was a member of the McAngus clan and that’s it. I don’t need to know more.” 

“I understand. Now I should be going. Should make sure that Cassandra doesn’t murder someone. Play nice, boys.” She gave Horace and Will pointed looks before striding off. 

Horace looked over to Will, who had his thinking face on. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Horace asked. 

“Your life sucks, man.” 

Horace wasn’t expecting that and he choked on his laughter. “Well you’re not wrong.” Will fell silent again and didn’t joke back. “Will, what’s wrong? Seriously. I’m supposed to be the brooding one of the relationships.” 

“You and Alyss, you weren’t like, well, you know, doing things?” Will’s face was filled with fear. 

“Gods Almighty, Bunneas help me! Did you not see the heart eyes she was giving you?” Horace asked, rubbing his face. He couldn’t believe that he was dealing with this. Especially with a Ranger. Rangers weren’t supposed to have relationship problems. They made pacts with demons and had all sorts of forest magic. But here he was. 

The tips of Will’s ears turned red. “It’s not like that. We’ve known each other since like birth. She was just being friends,” he mumbled. 

“Will.” Will’s eyes snapped up to Horace. “Trust me. That’s not being friendly. She’s flirting.” 

“Oh.” Will’s whole face went red. 

Horace sighed and leaned against a tree. “What makes you think that she was flirting with me? She’s not the biggest fan of Scotti. Thanks to Keren. By the way, I don’t know if she told you but Scottis don’t have slaves. It’s a horrible practice.” 

Legend has it that the original Scotti Warlords were escaped slaves who with the help of their fellowed slaves had risen up and slaughtered their owners before escaping to Picta. 

“Right ok.” Will compartmentalized that part. “Interesting, I’m going to come back to that. But why wouldn’t I? You’re handsome! Who wouldn’t like a guy who's taller than her and got nice muscles.” 

“I’m flattered?” 

Will sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

Horace sighed and pointed his hands at Will. “Tell me, why would she go for a stranger from another place when in front of her is one of her oldest friends, someone that she could trust, and a celebrated war hero?” 

“You really think?” Will mumbled. 

“Give it a shot.” 

“Yeah, I think I will,” Will mused. It was directed more to himself then to Horace. “How’d you get so smart when it came to girls?” 

“I honestly have no idea.” Horace shrugged. Isla initiated it by marching up to him and kissing him. He hadn’t been able to form sentences for several minutes after. She had taken the ram by horns. 

“Do you have someone. You know? Back in Picta? McKentick mentioned someone before left. Uh, Isla? You two a thing?” Will asked. 

Did he? Horace shrugged again. “I don’t know actually.” Will frowned in confusion at him. Horace picked at his sleeve, not looking at him. “We were together before the war but when I was leaving she told me that she didn’t want to be one of those girls. The ones who sit by the door waiting for their husbands or boyfriend returning from war. She said that when I came back, she’d open to go back to what we were. If she hadn’t moved on.” 

Though she hadn’t told him, he knew why. She lost her dad in the same raid as Horace did. She didn’t want to lose Horace like she lost him. It was an ultimatum, her or the war. Horace could sit idly by and watch his clan members die. Watch McKentick die. If Horace died protecting him, then Isla would still have still have her uncle. 

“That’s sad, man.” Will gave Horace one of those looks. 

Horace scoffed in agreement. “Yeah. I understood why she did it. I still miss her. I was hoping to go home to her but here I am.” He let out a defeated sigh. 

“If it were up to me, I wouldn't have done this whole prison thing.” 

“I know, Will. That’s kind of you.” Horace tapped his nail against his leg. “I think I’m going back to my room.” Horace didn’t know what to do when he got back to his room but he felt exhausted being around here. He’d never had an idle life. There was always training and patrol. If there were in peacetime, there was hunting and things to do around the village. 

Now Horace was cooped up in a room. That’s what bugged him. He had the illusion of freedom. 

“Oh you sure?” Will asked. 

“I didn’t sleep well. I’m tired. But stop by if you have anything.” Horace pushed himself off of the tree and yawned. That was a bit of a lie, but Horace just wanted out. 

“Cool.” Will gave Horace a thumbs up and turned the opposite way and disappeared behind the hedges. Spooky. Horace shook his head and headed back to the castle. 

Slowly, he made his way back to the castle. He took his sweet time, trying not to get lost because that meant it would take more time to get back to his little section of this castle and he’d have to talk to people. 

Soon he recognized the dark wood and the stone walls. Oh thank the gods. Horace made his way to his door. As he stood at the entrance to his room, he felt someone watching him. His body stiffened in response. He felt like a rabbit while a wolf watches it. No could hurt him, if someone were to attack him, Horace could beat them. 

He looked over his shoulder and saw a pair of eyes that peered out from behind a wall. The eyes were attached to a small slender figure with shockingly dark hair. Horace felt like he could snap the girl easily, she was so tiny. 

“Can help you?” Horace asked.   
  
She squeaked and disappeared for a hot second, leaving Horace staring at an empty wall. Okay? 

Well, Aila had told him that apparently the nobles are all afoot that a Scotti general was coming. Horace had hoped that his standoff entrance would discourage them from flocking around him. 

Before Horace could turn back to his door, the girl reappeared. She looked terrified out of her mind. “I don’t bite, you know.” Horace eyed her tiredly, trying to calm her. 

“I know.” She spoke in Pictan. Her eyes flickered past him and then back to his face. “Sorry, I just.” She waved her hand. 

Horace couldn’t help but smile. She reminded him of new soldiers who came to the front. The shy ones who could only nervously stuttered out the word ‘colonel’ at him. “You must be Cora. Your mother speaks well of you. I have a letter from her.” 

She instantly brightened. Some of the shyness seemed to melt away. “Right! You would have stopped off at home! Dad went to Picta to get you.” Her eagerness seem to ebb in. 

“Yes. Would you like to come in?” Horace tilted his head to the door. 

“Oh.” Cora retreated back to her shyness. She bit at a fingernail and then after a second, she nodded. “Yeah! Ok.”   
  
Horace chuckled softly to himself and opened the door. She was very different from the statuesque form of her mother. She seemed to exude energy. He let her into his room and headed quickly to his room. He was struck with a sense of repetition. This had happened with Cassandra earlier. He was still sure that she tried to read the note from Isla that he had left on the table. 

Good thing that it was in Pictan. 

He grabbed the sealed envelope and came back out. 

Cora stood there with both hands clasped in front of her, looking around the room. “A little drab don’t you think?” She asked. 

“Excuse me for not decorating. I moved in yesterday.” Horace scoffed slightly and then handed her the envelope. 

“Right.” Cora gratefully took the envelope and slid it into a pocket in her dress. She rocked on her heels and chewed on her lip. “I could bring some things if you want? I’ve got something from home and Picta here with me.” 

Deep down Horace wanted something to spruce up this depressing place but didn’t want to bother her. “I don’t want to separate you from your things.” 

“No! No!” Cora assured him. “Look, this war was terrible. This situation that you’re in is terrible and I want to help. If giving you a few things will do it then I’m with. We’re Scotti right? We stick together.” 

Horace smiled. An actual genuine smile that made him a little teary eyed. “I’d love that. Thank you.” 

Her smile was almost blinding. She slid onto the top of the couch and swung her feet like a little kid. “Maybe in return you could tell me about Picta? I’ve only been a few times and I want to know more.” 

Horace leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “Strange, I don’t remember you visiting at all.” He bit his cheek in thought. To be fair McKentick took Horace into the wilderness a lot when he was younger. Rites of passage and shit. 

“Hm?” Cora tilted her head in confusion.  
  
“We’re from the same Clan, Cora. Did you not recognize the tartan?” Horace gestured to the folded cloak that rested on the mantel behind her. 

Cora looked over her shoulder and her body seemed to tense up in recognition. “You know my grandpa and grandma?” She asked. 

“Not very well. They’re my clan leaders. I do believe, if my memory is correct, that my mother was one of your mother’s weaponry teachers. That was awhile ago and my memory may be faulty.” 

“But you’re a general! Shouldn’t you like to know your Warlord?” 

Horace chuckled sadly. “My general title is rather newly minted.” 

“Oh.” Cora pressed her lips together in thought. 

“Can I ask something?” Horace asked. She nodded. “Why’d you come here? You seem like you want to go to Picta and yet you go the opposite direction.” 

“I dunno. I thought that it might help. There’s not a lot of eligible people in Norgate. Thought that I could find someone. Turns out I’m not very good at talking to boys. Or girls.” Cora flushed at Horace’s chuckle. “But now I’ve got you.” 

“Yeah, you’ve got me.” 

It was strange to think that she was Warlord McAngus’ granddaughter. They were so different: McAngus was so jaded, and Cora just seemed hopeful. 

“Do you think that I’ll ever be able to go back to Shal?” Cora asked. 

She seemed more desperate to go back than Horace. She did have family there. Family that were desperate to see her. Horace had people that wanted to see him, but they could move on past him if needed. 

“I don’t know. I guess it's why I’m here.” No pressure or anything. 

Cora furrowed her brow, trying to think. “I thought Warmaidens were suppose to do the negotiating.” 

“Well yes. Just not with Araluens. Warlords and, I guess, me, deal with that. In past Araluens haven’t been well received to female diplomats.” It was nice to see that it was changing with the couriers, but Horace doubted that any clan would allow an Araluen force near a Warmaiden. They were too valuable. Which made it strange that Aila married an Araluen baron. 

“I wanted to be a courier when I was little.” Cora leaned on her first and had a dreamy look on as she one through memory lane. “Then I realized that I’d inherit the title of baron eventually and should focus on that.” 

If Cora inherited the title then Norgate would be ruled by someone with Scotti blood then the clans who controlled the border would have better access to Araluen and better trade. The Scottis might get Norgate back. Was that what McAngus trying to do? A long con? 

“I should get going. Stuff to do. People to see.” Cora shrugged and slid off of the couch. She gave him a shy smile. “It was nice meeting you, Horace. Thank you for the letter.” 

“Anytime. If you need someone, my door is open.” 

Cora nodded excitedly and hesitated for a second before almost tackling Horace into a hug. The top of her head almost came up to his collarbone. He hugged her back, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He felt her shaking like a leaf in his arms. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, breaking the hug and wrapping her arms her chest. She couldn’t look at him. 

“It’s fine Cora. I don’t mind it.” 

“Thanks. I should go. I actually have things to do.” She gave him a smile. 

“I’ll see you later then.” Horace waved goodbye to her as she slid out of the door. She smiled brightly before she left. Horace shook his head with disbelief. She was like a whirlwind, there one second and was blowing out the door the next. 


	6. Chapter 6

Horace didn’t leave his room much for the next couple of days. He didn’t have anything to do and didn’t want to be bothered by people. The only person who was allowed in was Erik, the servant who kind of followed Horace around. He brought Horace food and tidied up so Horace didn’t snap at him. 

It was nice having contact with someone. Erik told Horace about his family, who were all blacksmiths except for Erik, who wanted to work in the library when he’s older, and as he did just went around the room moving things back into place. 

Not going to lie, it was strange having someone wait on him. Horace was used to picking up after himself. Erik didn’t care and told Horace straight up. He had other duties but it was nice coming here to escape. So Horace let him do what he wanted. 

When Erik wasn’t here, Horace slept. He slept a lot. 

Cora hasn’t shown up again, she was probably a little busy as she was a lady-in-waiting to the princess. 

So Horace lay in bed with the covers pulled over his head and wishing that the day would be over so that he could go back to bed. Horace thought that since he had a very drastic change in lifestyle, he wouldn’t be so tired but he could barely get out of bed. 

He was cozy but bored. 

There was nothing to do. Well he could go explore, there was still so much to look at. Horace didn’t want to leave. 

There was a knock on his door and Horace wanted that person to go away. But he got himself out of bed, straightened it up before going to the door. Please don’t let it be the princess. Horace didn’t want to deal with her. More like deal with his emotions and try not to snap at her. 

She was trying to put him at ease and Horace felt horrible for snapping at her. 

It wasn’t her. It was Will. 

“Good morning.” Horace rubbed his eyes. 

“It’s one in the afternoon.” Will brushed past Horace into his living.

Horace sighed and dropped his hand and stared at the ceiling, praying for strength before turning back to Will. “Can I help you? Or are you here to interrogate me?” Horace crossed his arms and tiredly glared at Will. 

There was another knock on his door. Horace sighed and opened it again. He tried to keep his angry energy up but it faded when he saw Cora’s nervous smile and signature wide eyes. “Hi Horace!” She sang. 

“Hey Cora, is this important?” Horace asked. 

“Oh, well, this was sent for you from mom and dad.” Cora held out to an envelope to him. 

It looked hefty. Horace wondered what this was. The only people that would write to Horace was the people back home. Unless the border was retaken and the soldiers were returned to Mainclaw. 

“Thanks, Cora.” Horace took the envelope. 

Cora nervously curtsied at Will. “Ranger. I’ll leave you two to whatever you two were talking about. See you later Horace.” She gave Horace a little smile, the type of smile that scrunched up her nose, and then hurried off. 

“Baron Theo and Aila’s daughter?” Will asked as Horace closed the door. 

“Yeah, she’s adorable in a little sister way, you know?” Horace opened the envelope and looked through the contents. Will made a little grunt of agreement. There was tightly folded up sheets of parchment with tightly scrawled letters. At the bottom of each letter was signed by various friends and acquaintances. 

He didn’t see Isla’s signature. 

Horace’s stomach dropped. He’d hope at least she’d write to him. 

“So?” Will asked.   
  
“Letters. Do you need to look through them?” Horace held up the envelope. 

“No. Others might say that I should, but what’s the point of trying to bridge relations with Picta if we don’t trust you?” Will shrugged. 

“Doubt that you’ll be able to read it. It’s all in Pictan. There are few that speak the trader’s tongue or Araluen.” Horace tossed the envelope onto the table and then crossed his arms again. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh, well got a report from Harrison that a force of Scotti warriors cross the border to Mainclaw. The Araluen soldiers are home safe and the Scotti warriors enjoyed a couple of nights at Mainclaw.” 

That’s good. McKentick retook the border and there wasn’t any outright hostility. This was the best situation that Horace could hope for. “Question.”   
  
“Hm?” 

“Are the Skandians still there? And if yes, did Nils bring out the bagpipes?” 

“Unfortunately for Orman and Xander. Apparently one of your men taught him a few things while they were there. So many he wouldn’t be as bad.” Will’s eyes squinted in amusement. 

“Let’s hope that Lunas decides to look over him.” For Nils’ sake honestly.

“Mhm. The king is also requesting a meeting with you after lunch.”

Great. Horace should speak to Cassandra before said meeting. To try to clear up the air and everything. “Not surprised that he would want to do that.” Why couldn’t McAngus sent someone with better political tact. Horace wasn’t good at beating around the bush. 

“Try not to piss off Cassandra again.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Will gave Horace a tried smile and fell back into his somber look that he got when he retreated further into his mind as he tried to figure out a plan for something. 

Horace sighed, someone had to get him out of his funk. “What’s wrong, Will?” 

“I think that I’m going to tell Alyss that, you know, I like her.” 

“Today?” Horace furrowed his brow. Was this a good idea? Things were a little unstable and both Will, if Horace could count whatever dark magic that Rangers do as a job, and Alyss had demanding jobs that would keep them away from each other. “Will, I’m not trying to stop you but take it from me, distance and hard jobs don’t bode well for relationships. I don’t want to see you two break it up because of this.” 

“I know but we’re used to it and with the war ending and I don’t know where I’m going after this, I think that this is the best time. I don’t want to move on without her.” Will stared at Horace with confidence, his chest heaving. His eyes were wild with animalistic frenzy. 

“Ok, tone back that wild animal look because honestly it's a little unsettling but just like repeat that because that part was cute. Got it?” 

Will nodded, his eyes still wild. Horace rose his eyebrows at Will until Will realized that he was still doing it. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Ok. I’m cool. I’m confident. I’m not going to scare her away.” 

“Will. Chill. You’ll do great.” Horace pushed Will out of his room. “Now where’s Alyss?” 

“Probably in the gardens. She likes to work there.” Will shrugged. 

“See? You’re already know her so well.” 

Horace listened as Will babbled on nervously until they reached the back porch. Then Will stopped dead. “I can’t do this.”

Was Horace this bad when he and Isla were in that crushing stage? He didn’t think so. It hard to remember because there was no transitional phase. They were friends then they friends that kissed. Horace had just went along with it. 

“Will.” 

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?” Will asked. 

“Just a little. Now go.” Horace gave Will a little push. Will stumbled at the force but, thankfully, trotted over to Alyss. She looked up and gave Will a bright smile as he approached her. 

Horace headed over large tree to get out of the sun. Will, he was, he was a lot. Much like Cora. A whirlwind that just sweeps over his life. He should read those letters, at least look through them and see if there was anything important that he should bring up with the king. 

Horace at first had crossed his arms as he started to pace but he started to bite a nail. He briefly looked up to the couple and couldn’t help but smile. Will’s back was turned but he could see from here Alyss’ blush and her smile. It warmed his heart. 

“Oh my god! Are they, is Will confessing?” 

For the love of all that's holy! Horace’s shoulders tensed up and he stumbled forwards. He glared at whomever appeared behind him. Shit. It was the princess. Luckily, she wasn’t paying attention to him. Her eyes were trained on Will and Alyss. Horace let his body relax and nodded. “Found the courage to admit it.” 

Cassandra whistled softly, there was a look of disbelief that coated her face. Horace couldn’t help but smile at that part. It was a private smile that didn’t last for very long. “How the fuck did you manage to do that? I’ve been trying for months.” 

“Will’s job is to analyze everything. Alyss’ job is to be tactful. Neither of them can snap out of their mentalities. So Will overthinks and Alyss is too polite to say anything and is willing to suffer in silence as not break what they have currently. Will just needed a little nudge.” 

Cassandra went still, her eyebrows tightened. Horace hoped he hadn’t said anything to offend her again. “God dammit. You’re right. How could I have not seen it. Ugh!” 

The force of her words took Horace back. “Sorry?” 

“No, it’s not you. I’ve been so blind, I’ve been trying to get Alyss to confess. Should have known that Will would be the better choice.” 

A small chuckle escaped Horace before he realized it. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes when you’re too close to the situation, it’s hard to see the bigger picture.” 

She stuck out her bottom lip in thought, and it was hard not to stare at her while she did it. Her lips were a rosy shade of pink the compliments the soft green dress that she wore and even when she glaring at him they looked amazing. Horace couldn’t deny it. She was pretty. He’d thought about it since he’d first seen her. It was a wistful yearning that all Horace could see it turning into was heartbreak and the potential danger to his home if he angered the crown princess of Araluen. 

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted with a huff. She crossed her arms in annoyance and pouted even more. Her light brown hair that hung in loose curls bounced as she moved. 

Horace had to look away from her for a quick second. He looked back to Will and Alyss. They they had moved. Will was sitting on the bench with Alyss and Horace wasn’t sure but he thought that he saw them holding hands. Will was beaming. 

“How’d you do it?” Cassandra asked. 

“Do what?” 

“Get Will to realize that Alyss likes him?” 

Horace smirked a little at the memory. “Very pointedly reminded him that he was a celebrated war hero and she’d probably be into the guy that she knows and trusts. And that she probably digs the whole mysterious Ranger part. I’ve been told that girls like that sort of thing. What do you think?” It was meant to be an innocent question, truly. He didn’t know how girls worked. 

Cassandra sniffled, trying to appear above it all but her red face gave her away. “I wouldn’t know.” Her words were a little strained.   
  
Oh, he did not mean to have that effect on her. It was probably in Horace’s best interest to stop while he was ahead. He nodded and turned back to the new minted and happy couple. Alyss had packed up her work and they were heading back to the castle. It was hard to notice it unless actually looking but Horace could see them holding hands. As they passed by Horace and Cassandra, Will flashed Horace a bright smile. Horace gave Will a thumbs up. 

Seeing them together plucked at Horace’s heart strings. Isla would be proud of him. 

“I should go.” Cassandra awkwardly stressed her words, her eyes kept flicking over to him like she wanted him to give her a reason to stay. “I guess I’ll see you in the meeting later?” 

“You’ll be there?” Horace asked. He didn’t expect that part. He should have expected that, she was the one who would inherit the title. It would make sense that she would start learning how to rule from her father. 

Cassandra bit her lip and smirked at, looking smug with herself. “I wasn’t invited, but daddy will tell me anyways, so I might as well come and get the whole picture.” 

“That is a smart idea,” Horace agreed. She looked pleased at that. 

She made a move to head back to the castle. He didn’t want her to go, he didn’t want to be alone. He was so tired of being alone. 

“Hey, princess?”

“Hm?” She turned back around her bright green eyes held him in place for a second.

He struggled to find his Araluen words for a second. He took a breath and mentally kicked himself for second. He was falling into the same trap that Will was falling into. “I’m sorry,” he forced out. It sounded so strained to his ears. 

Cassandra looked puzzled. 

“For that lake comment. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. I was taking my anger out on you and I shouldn’t have.” 

“Oh.” Her eyes lit up in recognition. “No, don’t apologize for that.” She shook her head. The smirk slid off. “I was pushing too hard and trying to get you to like this place. You were still hurt and getting used to this place and I came on way to strong, way too soon. So this is me apologizing to you. I’m sorry.” 

Worry lines appeared on her forehead as she stared at him, eyes wide with concern. 

“So what I’m hearing is that we’re a pair of messes.” 

Cassandra blinked for a second and then giggled. Her laugh was beautiful. It reminded Horace of summer days spent by the dead lake. It sounded super morbid but it reality it wasn’t. The dead lake had brilliant blue waters but nothing grew there and if Horace went into the water he could see to the bottom. Something was wrong with the water. Legend was that the water spirit that lived there angered Gethys for some reason and Gethys cured the lake that nothing would live there ever again. Even if the lake was dead, it was a beautiful camping spot. Clear skies, forests all around them, and the blue of the lake. 

“Yeah, I guess we are.” She smiled at him. 

“Could we restart?” 

“I’d like that. It’s no fun being angry at people. So, I’ll go first. Hi, I’m Princess Cassandra of Araluen.” She held out her hand. 

Horace took her hand, shook it. “It’s an honour to meet you Princess Cassandra. I am General Horace Altman of the McAngus clan.” He made eye contact with her as he bowed and kissed her hand. She turned an adorable delicate shade of pink as he stood up. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” She gave him a cheery smile as her cheeks still maintained that faint blush. 

“The pleasure is all mine. Now if you excuse me, I have something that I need to do before the meeting with your father.” 

She actually looked disappointed for a quick second. “Shame. It would to get to know you more before the meeting.” Horace’s heart twanged a little. Was she really disappointed? 

“Well, there quite a distance from here to the castle. I wouldn’t mind the company.” Horace held out his arm his arm. The fake air of diplomacy seem to continue even though Horace didn’t want to do it. He just wanted to talk to her normally but he felt like he needed to keep it up or else he’d accidentally insult her. Again. 

“Sure!” She lit up and laced her arm through his. Be still his beating heart. Horace gave her a nervous smile as they started off. 

They started a slow stroll through the dead landscape. Horace could see that some of the trees were starting to bud. He supposed that spring came a little earlier to the people here. 

Horace didn’t know where to start with her. 

“You know, I do have to agree with you. The canal is rather stupid. It serves no purpose. I do not get why my great-grandfather had it put in.” 

That got a laugh out of Horace. He shook his head, disappointed at himself for lashing out at her over that of everything. “A show of power?” 

Cassandra scoffed. “If he wanted to do that, then he should have developed the Navy more, considering the Skandian attacks that had been going on for years.” 

“It could be a smart decision but I think it that it would have been a waste of time.” He kept his eyes trained on the gleaming white walls in front of him. 

“Why’s that?” she asked, and there was a terse tone in her voice. 

“Araluen is well known for its archers, so why focus on building a navy when instead he could focus on the strengths of the nation? The Skandians would be able to sail circles around the Araluen force but they would need to come to land. If there were archers, you’d be able to attack from a distance with minimal if any losses.” Horace didn’t know if that was right but that’s what his gut told him to do. 

“That’s true.” Cassandra’s voice was soft. 

Horace frowned and looked over to her. She looked troubled and a little lost in her thoughts. 

He gently nudged her. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, just thinking. I’ve seen Skandians fight up close. Your assessment of them is correct. Do Scottis have contact with Skandians?” Cassandra asked, looking up to him. 

The only way that she would see that Skandians fight up close, was if she was in the middle of a battle. Castle Araluen was way too protected to fall to a Skandian attack. What battles would have she have seen? 

Horace hesitated a little. While he was supposed to be bridging relations between Araluen and the Scotti clans, he didn’t want to give that much away. Cassandra could ask other Skandians about trade relations. “Some clans do. The more northern ones. The ones that have access to the sea. The McAngus clan is between the Araluen border and a mountain range that divides Picta in half. But there’s a lot of trade between clans and stories travel.” 

“Not to mention the group of Skandians that you apparently beat up at Mainclaw.” Cassandra gently knocked her shoulder against his. Well tried to. Her shoulder met his bicep.

“I did not! Just, a little roughly I’ll admit, pointed out to Nils that maybe he shouldn’t do that do that by providing an example. There’s a difference.” 

Cassandra nodded, her lower lip sticking out in agreement. “That’s true.” 

Araluen has a standing treaty with Skandia, the ranger who had been there probably could have signed it for Araluen but Cassandra seems to know them pretty well. Had she been there in Skandia? 

They stalled to stop one of the entrances, neither of them wanted to really leave. He was having a good time with her. Cassandra sighed, hopefully it was a happy sigh, and gently punched Horace in the shoulder. “You’re not as much as an asshole that I originally thought.” 

Horace caught her hand and held it, he didn’t want to go back to the real world. “Back at at you, princess. You’re not as pompous and annoying as I thought you’d be.” 

“Hey. I can be annoying. Don’t discredit my abilities.” Cassandra pointed her now freed hand at him. 

“I stand corrected. You are annoying.” 

Cassandra batted her eyelashes at him. The smile gave him the indication that she was joking. “Thank you General, I try very hard.” She stuck her tongue out of her mouth a little like a cat’s. 

“I’ll see you later.” 

She looked reluctant to let him go. “Yes, I will see you later. Try not anger anyone else.” She gave him a wryly smile. 

“I’ll only reserve it for you,” Horace joked. 

“Good. Goodbye for now. General.” Her eyes twinkled as her smile continued to grow. It was captivating. Horace stood rooted in spot as she waltzed away.   
  
He chuckled softly to himself, running the nail of his thumb over his lower lip. 

These Araluens would be the death of him.   
***  
Like all of his meals, lunch was a bit of a solemn affair. Horace sat at his table, going over some of the letters that he had been sent. He left the more personal ones for later. Most of them were personal.   
There was a letter from McAngus that Horace was a little surprised about. It was still shocking to Horace that his Warlord knew who he was and talked to him. 

The letter was short and to the point. 

_General,_

_I know I said this before you left but I am sorry that you had to be the one who had to go. We will do as much as we can to get you home. The Araluen soldiers have been sent to Mainclaw and arrived safely if this letter reaches you. The McAngus and MacArthur clan has extended twice a hand for civility to the Araluens and now are waiting for their response. I hope they come to their senses soon. Perhaps you could give them a nudge in the correct direction._

_Now, putting away my Warlord title and asking your as a concerned grandfather, if you see my granddaughter Cora as Aila has told me that she lives in Castle Araluen, would you look out for her? Both I and her grandmother worry for her._

_Please send her our love if you speak with her._

_Regards,_

_Neil MacLogan McAngus_. 

Horace stared at the letter with heavy eyes. McAngus was correct, their clan had given the Araluens the chance to be at least civil to each other and the Araluens hasn’t responded. He would need to speak to the king about this. 

Great. Horace definitely didn’t join the army to avoid having to deal with politics. 

Horace put down the letter from McAngus with a heavy heart. He didn’t want to disappoint his Warlord. He chewed on his bred and stared at the open letter. How was he to do it in a nice way so he didn’t get murdered by Cassandra? 

He had no idea. 

Horace was pulled out his thoughts by a small knock on his door. “Come in,” he called, not bothering to get up. 

Cora’s wide eyes appeared in the empty space. “Hi!” She cheerfully called. 

“Hey Cora.” Horace couldn’t help but smile.

“Um, the princess asked if I could come get you for the meeting with the King. You ready?” She asked, fiddling with the hem of her dress. 

“Yeah, just a second. This is for you.” Horace picked up McAngus’ letter and handed it to her. “Second paragraph.” 

Cora frowned and took the letter from him. Her eyes darted from left to right as she read. “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped a little as she clutched the letter. “Oh.” Her voice wavered. 

“You okay?” Horace put a hand on her small shoulder. 

Cora looked up to him with tears dotting her eyes and rolling down her pale cheeks. Her mouth wobbled a little and she started to sob. Horace pulled her into a hug, not sure what else to do. She clung onto him, digging her head into his shoulder. “I just miss them so much! I don’t get to see them a lot and I didn’t know if they were okay for so long.” One of her hands gripped onto his shirt tightly. “I want to go home.” She then dissolved into even more sobs. 

To calm her down, Horace gently rocked her back and forth and hummed a small hymn to her. Her sobs slowly quieted. “There we go,” he hummed softly. “Feeling better?” 

Cora nodded but didn’t move to break the hug. Okay. Horace traced circles on her shoulders and still rocked her a little. Her panicked breathing levelled out. 

“Sorry,” Cora mumbled and wiped her eyes. She stumbled back and guilty stared at the ground. 

“Cora, you okay?” Horace asked. 

She nodded but looked like she was going to start crying again. Her nose was bright pink and her eyes were red and watery. “Mhm. Sorry. Just don’t have a lot of people to talk too. Here and all.” 

Horace sighed unhappily. She looked exhausted and lonely. She kept guilty looking up to him and then to the floor. “Look, I have to go to a meeting with the king. But we can talk if you want. You’re more than welcome to stay here if you need a place to escape.”

“Mhm. Sorry for breaking down on you, Horace.” 

“Everyone needs to talk to someone. I don’t mind. But I do need to get going.” 

“Right, yeah. Cassandra asked me to take you there. Um, can I keep this? Or do you need this?” She held up the crumpled letter.

“Keep it. I don’t need it.” 

Cora smiled and tucked it away. Horace gently nudged her out of the door and off they went.

Neither Horace nor Cora felt like talking. Horace was thinking about what was about to happen with the king and probably Cassandra. And someone else. Will maybe? Or that ranger with the red hair. Horace wasn’t looking forward to having defend his home. 

Cora just seemed tired and a little lost, wrapped up in her own little world. She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and looked up at Horace. “I’ve got some free time, would it be okay if I dropped some things off?” She asked. 

“You’re more than welcome to do that. It’ll be a welcome sight to come back after this meeting.” 

“Yeah, I don’t envy you.” Cora shook her head. She kept her eyes downcast. “I’m proud to be Scotti but there comes to a point where survival outweighs pride.” She sniffled and glared at the ground. “I know it’s not very Scotti of me. Not like you.” 

“There’s a difference between us, Cora.” Horace nudged her. She looked up at him. “You’re a lot more proud of your Araluen heritage than I am. You want to fit in and be acknowledged by your peers here. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. I’m like that back home. I ignore my Araluen heritage to fit in better.” 

“You’re Araluen?” Cora looked shocked. 

Horace scrunched up his nose in annoyance. “I wouldn’t say that I’m Araluen, but my father came from here. He left long before I was born.” 

“So we’re flipped.” Cora bobbed her head as she skipped along. 

“Exactly.” Horace followed her down a long corridor that felt fancy to him, the wood looking spotless and blemish-free. If he looked closer at the details, he could start to see the finer things. There were crystal-like lamps that decorated the walls. Tapestries that fit snugly beside the lamps glittered in the light that the lamps cast. 

There was a red and gold carpet that made Horace nervous to walk on; what if he got it mud on it? 

It wasn’t the same white and black smoothed stone that was in the main part of the castle. It was a little less gaudy, but still had that elegant feel that made Horace feel out of place. McKentick, when he was escorting Warmaiden NioLyall for some reason, Horace couldn’t remember, took him to some of the different clans and the ones near the sea, the ones with the most trading with sea folk, had these impressive halls. 

Large timber pillars with intricate designs carved into them and sleek dark grey stones. Large chandeliers circled around the top. Roofs with slits at the top that looked like the inside the Skandian boats that traded there. Rich furs and paintings donned the walls At the time, those halls made Horace seem so small. 

Now looking around here, they seemed like nothing. 

“You okay?” Cora asked. 

“Just thinking.” Horace lied. He felt so out of place here. It even happened in his own rooms, he never had something so nice looking. His cottage back home was small and cluttered with things that he had been given from various families around the village. 

“Well get ready, because we’re here.” Cora stopped in front of a large oak door that was guarded by two men with heavy spears. They glared at Horace as he approached. Great. 

“Right, thank you Cora.” 

Cora nodded, making a little noise but didn’t take her eyes off of the guards. She seemed just as wary as Horace. She took a step back and then quickly headed off, leaving Horace alone with the guards. 

Horace hid a sigh and stepped closer to the doors. The guards snapped to attention and covered the door with their spears. They stared stony faced at Horace. “Look. I’ve got a meeting with the King. I’m suppose to be here.” 

They didn’t respond. Seriously?

The doors behind them opened and Horace’s saving grace glared at the guards. “We told you that the Scotti General came accompanied by lady Cora.” Cassandra glared at them. 

The guards looked over to Horace and then back to Cassandra. They shrugged and uncrossed their spears. 

Horace nervously stepped between then and breezed by Cassandra with a small smile. “Got in, eh?” 

“Well, I am persuasive.” She batted her eyelashes in an attempt at an innocent look. 

“Thought that you were suppose to be annoying?” Horace teased. She rolled her eyes at his smirk but still smiled back at him. Cassandra sniffled, sticking her nose in her air and marched in the room. It was his time to roll his eyes at her. 

He followed her into the study and that same small feeling returned. Tall bookcases were pushed against the wall that Horace first saw. It was filled with books. It was so tall was a ladder propped up against the wall. 

The same plush red and gold carpet ran throughout the room on top of that black stone. Fancy, gleaming wooden tables piled high with books and rolled up parchments were scattered across the room. Matching chairs accompanied those chairs. 

It felt cozy. 

It felt like his home back home. Horace’s throat seized up. He might never see his home again. 

That small cottage on the outskirts of the village, close enough that he wasn’t ostracized from his people but far enough away to get some peace. Stop it. Horace scolded himself. He couldn’t be thinking like that. 

He needed to be strong. The sooner that he could deal with this bullshit, the sooner he could go home. 

Carefully positioned in the empty spaces of the walls were portraits of men in grand outfits. Must be past kings. Their eyes seemed to follow him as Horace walked it. 

He was probably making it up but he swore that they gave him a look of disgust as he walked in. 

A large window took up most of the wall on his left with dark blue curtains that were pushed opened. Horace realized with a start that the window had a scene made up of cut glass and hardened gold that fitted between the glass. There’s where most of the light came through. 

It was dizzying being so high up, but it made him feel so powerful. Horace was higher than the tops of the trees. He could see the sea in the distance. It was beautiful. Why did the gods forbid them from seeing this? 

Maybe the Araluens had a point with building these castles so high. 

“Horace?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace looked over and cursed himself. Staring at him was Cassandra, her father, and that other ranger, he one with the red hair, Croonly, No, Crowley, staring at him. Full out staring at him. It was unsettling. 

The king was sitting at a massive wooden desk with gold and copper paint painted onto the elegant swirls. Behind him was a stone fireplace with fancy looking knickknacks delicately placed the mantle. Nailed to the wall was a crimson red shield with a black hawk painted into it and two swords resting on top of the shield. 

There was a golden fur rug with block spots tossed over a foot stool by the fireplace. 

“Sorry. I got distracted,” Horace tried really hard not to mumble but it felt like he was mumbling to his ears. 

King Duncan smiled slightly, there was some warmth that reached his eyes, and nodded towards the window. “The view is spectacular, isn’t it?” 

“Never been so high up before.” Horace sort of mumbled again and idiotically gestured to the window. 

King Duncan nodded. “I understand. It took me awhile to get used to view when I first inherited the study. Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to a chair in front of the desk. 

“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.” Horace wanted to maintain some sort of control. 

“Of course.” King Duncan tried to be diplomatic. Cassandra raised an eyebrow at Horace and looked just amused by the situation. Crowley didn’t say anything but stared at Horace. Again, it sent Horace’s hackles on edge. He’d grown too comfortable around Will and it had made him complacent towards the Rangers. 

He needed to be on guard because if he let his guard drop that’s when they would wedge their way into Horace’s head. 

“I believe that apologies are in order. I was out of line last time we talked.” Horace hated saying those words. It wasn’t true, Horace felt his words were justified but he needed to be polite with King Duncan so that he could get anything done. 

That seemed to take aback the small crowd staring at Horace. They all looked shocked.   
  
King Duncan pursed his lips in thought. “Thank you for the apology, General, but it is not needed. I overestimated our position with your clan.” 

“Thank you. I hope that we can come to a compromise.” Horace wasn’t sure where to go from this. He was more than happy to let King Duncan to start this conversation. 

Crowley scoffed. “Could we get on now that all the pleasantries aside?” He asked. Horace shrugged, he had nothing left to say. Cassandra made a noise of agreement. “Wonderful, as I’m sure you heard, your people have delivered on their promise and all Araluen soldiers that were in Picta are now back on Araluen soil.” 

“Are you surprised that we didn’t negate on our promise?” Horace crossed his arms. He wished Will was here. Even though Horace shouldn’t let his guard down around him, Will would stick up for him. 

“That’s not what Crowley meant. It’s just that Will mentioned that the border was controlled by another group, a more aggressive clan, and he said that it would a bit before the soldiers could come over,” Cassandra injected smoothly. 

Judging by the look on Crowley’s face Horace didn’t think that was the case. Was it worth it? Probably not. Horace brushed off the insult to his clan’s honour and tried to not get angry. 

King Duncan sighed and put his rubbed his eyebrows with a hand. “General, do you mind if I call you Horace?” 

“Not much of a general here.” Horace shrugged, trying to ignore the pain that statement gave him. He felt useless here. He also ignored the sympathetic look that Cassandra gave him. 

“Alright. Horace, the reason why I called the meeting is because your clan seems to be opening up to the possibility of a treaty. As we understand, the McAngus clan controls most of the border between our two lands. With the return of Araluen soldiers, they have shown that they are open to a path of peace.” 

“Respectfully, your majesty, this is the second time that we have done something for peace.” 

“Second time?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace gestured to himself. “I’m not here because I want to be. I was sent here due to the ‘treaty’ that is place.” He made air quotes around the word ‘treaty’. 

“You being here is to prevent us from going to war again,” Crowley said. 

“If that is the case then why was no-one sent to Shal, hm? Seems rather one-sided.” Horace pointed out. This whole situation was horrible. Horace being prisoner here was saying to the clans that Araluens didn’t trust them to keep their oath. All in all insulting them. 

While Horace wasn’t there, he could probably predict it was rubbing McAngus and probably other Warlords the wrong way. Maybe if it had been an equal exchange, there probably wouldn’t be as much animosity. 

Cassandra looked over to her father who was in deep thought. Horace decided to press a little more. “Look, I’m not saying these things from my personal view but there are those in Picta, probably within my clan that hate this situation. It seems like you’re trying to gather all the cards. A Scotti General in Araluen leaves a relatively important clan, in this situation, down a general and vulnerable in the case of an attack from a nation that is well known within our history for attacking us. Do you not see how this would create more anger than peace?” 

“I know this will sound a little ignorant but doesn’t this happen with your clans? Don’t you go to war with each other?” Cassandra asked. 

“Yes and no. We fight each other but once the war is over. It is over. There are treaties in place between certain clans. It’s the only reason why the McAngus clan and subsequently the MacArthur clan got into this war. But we never take prisoners, it’s an insult to our honour.” 

“Why’d sign your clan sign a treaty with the clan that attacked?” Crowley asked. 

“We created a treaty with MacFrewin as there was a common interest regarding Warlord McJaxon. MacFrewin wanted McJaxon’s territory. Much of our clan wanted McJaxon gone. It was a treaty of convenience. MacFrewin would get the territory he wanted and we’d be rid of McJaxon.” 

“What did McJaxon do to you?” Crowley asked. 

Other than destroy Horace’s entire family and leave him an orphan? Horace frowned and twisted his father’s ring. What to tell them? The raid had started out like any other, the battle took place on the outskirts of the village in the farmlands that the McJaxon so desperately wanted, their harvest had been small that year, but Horace never figured out how the battle went so wrong so fast. 

Most of the village had been destroyed, Horace would have thought that they would have moved with what happened. But they didn’t, strangely enough. 

“McJaxon’s generals went too far. That’s all you need to know.” Horace twirled his ring around on his finger. He didn’t speak to many people about his family’s misfortunes and would like to continue to keep it that way. Will only knew because he had overheard Horace tell Aila. Cassandra looked a little peeved at Horace’s answer, but she didn’t push. 

King Duncan had laced his fingers together and tapped his index fingers against his mouth. “Interesting. You think that the Warlords are insulted?” He asked. 

“Probably. They might also be worried that you’ll be amounting another attack on us.” 

“Another?” Crowley asked. 

“That’s ridiculous. We don’t have the troops to do that!” Cassandra exclaimed. 

“You have significantly more men than us. Not to mention the platoon of men that were just delivered to Mainclaw. It’s happened in the past. I will admit, the war was mostly instigated by us thanks to MacFrewin. But considering the course we’re on, unless you do something, he will be painted as a martyr.” 

Cassandra looked disgusted at that idea. Horace couldn’t help but agree with her. He never liked MacFrewin or his men that much. They were rather arrogant.

And they would restart the war. All of Horace’s hard work would be for naught. All those innocent men would be forced into war again. 

His home would be endangered. They never would stand a chance. 

“Why?” 

Horace waved a hand. “Because he’d be the brave Warlord who goes up against the terrible Araluens. You guys are really not popular in our books.” He was received by blank looks from the Royal family, Only Crowley looked like he knew what Horace was talking about. Horace couldn’t believe this. “One Raven’s Pass? Norgate? You do know that one of your ancestors took Norgate from us? They wiped out almost the entire clan, excused the Warlord and his family. Barely anyone made it out. Those who did actually went on to the McAngus clan but that’s not really important.” 

Cassandra looked uncomfortable at what Horace brought up. “I didn’t know that we did that. I thought that Norgate was always a part of our kingdom.”   
  
This was one thing that Horace would let pass. It happened hundreds of years ago. To Horace it didn’t matter. It was horrible but as he’d learnt the hard way, it was best to let these things go. Holding onto anger didn’t help anymore.

“It happened centuries ago. A lot of Scotti just hold onto that anger for propaganda reasons, really. That being said, I’m not kidding. There used to be sixteen clans. No one’s used that tartan since.” 

Cassandra’s face grew stormy as she drew her knees to her chest. It was a vile time of history between the two kingdoms. “I can’t believe that we did that.” 

“There’s a lot of bad blood between us. It’s rising again. Sure, the war may be over, but that still doesn’t change the attitudes surrounding us. Most Scotti hate your guts and it’s the same here. Do you know how many glares I’ve gotten since I’ve been here? Things are just going to get worse. They’re already getting worse.” 

“So what do we do to prevent this?” King Duncan asked. 

Horace shrugged. “Give them something that they want.” Wasn’t that the way to placate people? 

“Like what?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace shrugged again. “If you’ve got any prisoners from the war, send them home. Send me home. I dunno.” Then it hit him. The one thing that almost every clan had been outraged by. “What happened to the commander who lead the night attacks?” 

He was met with stony silence. That couldn’t be a good sign. They hadn’t done anything.

The general that stole the lives of his men in such a despicable way was still roaming around freely. He was probably celebrated for his attack.

Great. 

Cassandra probably lied to him. 

Horace’s jaw clicked as he tried to loosen it. He let out a painful sigh. “If you guys are truly sorry for what happened on that night like the princess has previously mentioned, you’d bring that lord or whatever his title is too justice. Because the man who slaughtered sleeping defenceless men is still lounging in his home, surrounded by luxury. It seems like you aren’t sorry and are even encouraging that sort of behaviour. Food for thought, your majesty.” 

There wasn’t much left to talk about. So Horace gently knocked on one of the polished table that he stood next to and gave King Duncan a curt little nod before heading out of the study. 

His blood boiled, they were so superficial. Putting on fake smiles while their insides rot. He should have known that that general hadn’t been punished. Horace didn’t want to even look at that asshole, how could someone think that attacking defenceless men was the way to win? They could win but at what cost? The cowardliness would live with them for the rest of their lives. 

“I’m going to assume that the meeting went well?” Will asked, appearing out of the shadows close to the study as if he was trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. 

Horace instinctively went for his sword as he spun around. He scowled at Will. He shrugged and turned away from Will, returning back to his walk back to his room. “I’m not sure.” 

“Why’s that?” Will mused, trailing behind Horace. 

Horace had to try not snap at Will. He took a deep breath and sighed. He couldn’t show weakness. “It’s complicated. Why weren’t you there?” 

Will shrugged aimlessly. “I had an assignment. You’re in a funk.” 

“I just had to deal with politics. I’m a general. Not a politician.” Will snorted in amusement. Horace rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ve got letters that I need to go over. I’m sure that you understand.”   
  
“Alright. I’ll check in on you later, I’ll just make sure you get back to your place.” 

Horace didn’t need a bodyguard or a guide. He could get back to his place in peace and if anyone tried anything Horace could take them on. He wasn’t a stranger to fighting those who look at him with disgust. 

Horace grunted in lieu of response and climbed down at a set of stairs. 

“Seriously, you okay?” Will scrambled to follow Horace. 

“I’m fine.” 

Will thankfully didn’t push it, and they made their way silently back to Horace’s room. 

The door was slightly ajar and Horace didn’t think much of it. It was probably just Cora, she told him that she was going to be there. Will on the other hand saw the open door and pushed Horace back. He pulled a knife out and crept towards the door. 

“Will, no.” 

Will hushed him. 

Horace rolled his eyes, not wanting Cora to be attacked by a Ranger as her mother and grandparents would murder him if he did, and pushed past Will and opened the door. “Hey Cora.” He went straight to his table to make sure that all of the letters that he had left there were still there. 

“Hi Horace! How was the meeting?” Cora’s voice had that musical hum to it still. “Hello Ranger Will.” She sounded a little more apprehensive. Horace looked up from checking that everything was there, because so far he hasn’t had the best track record with his letters going unread by prying eyes, and looked over to Cora. She had a pillow clutched to her chest and eyed Will suspiciously. 

Will was hovering in the doorway with his saxe still drawn and eyeing Cora back. 

“Either come in and close the door or leave and close the door. Either way put away your saxe,” Horace grumbled. 

Will frowned and looked over to Cora who gave him a nervous smile. He sheathed the saxe and relaxed his body. “What are you doing here?” He asked Cora. 

“Oh well, Horace’s room looked a little drab. He said that I could come decorate it a little. I’ve got some things from Picta that I thought that he might like.” Cora squeezed the pillow for comfort. 

“Speaking of which.” Horace looked around the living room. Draped over the couch was a well loved looking quilt, alongside the quilt on the couch was a couple of embroidered pillows. Sitting on opposite sides of Horace’s sword, which had been sharpened and polished, were small figurines of gods. Horace could recognize the figure of Gethys and Leldir, the god of war. It was strange that Cora would have a statue of Leldir. Only soldiers who left the villages would bring a statue of Leldir with them for succeeding in battle. Gethys would be protection enough for Cora living out here. Wait. Gods, Horace was dumb. That was his statue. He had just tossed it onto a dresser in his bedroom. Cora had respected Leldir a lot more than Horace had recently. Horace felt ashamed. 

He couldn’t make out the faces of the other statues. There was another figurine that was placed on top of stand that Horace’s shield now rested on. That must be Koris, the goddess of protection. She was usually depicted alongside shields and armours. Horace had left his statue of Koris with Isla. She needed it more than him. 

“Is it weird that I expected more?” Cora chuckled, swinging her body around with the pillow still clutched to her chest. Her cheeks turned a little red as she buried her face into the pillow. “I have more. Just didn’t want to overwhelm you.” “Alright. I’m going to go.” Will shook his head. “See you later, Horace.” 

“See you later.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and Horace sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

“You okay?” Cora asked. 

“Yeah, I just, I don’t know what to do. I’m a military man, I solve my problems by hitting them with a sword not using my words. Now I have to not do that.” 

Cora sat on the back of the couch swinging her legs and leaning her chin on the pillow. “What’s the problem?” 

“Long story short, the Araluens haven’t given the clans any reason to continue coexisting like we are currently. I’m nervous that the Warlords are going to start seeing MacFrewin as a martyr and I don’t know how to get the Araluens to see why.” 

Cora scrunched up her nose at that thought. “So what do we need to do?” 

“Somehow get them to do something to show that they care about the relationship between us. I suggested that they bring the man who was responsible for breaking the code of combat but I don’t think that they care that much. McAngus wants me to work with them but I don’t know what he wants. If he had sent me a list of things that the clan wants for a treaty, it would make my life so much easier.” 

“The woe of politics.” Cora sighed. She put the pillow on the couch and tapped on her knees. “I could speak with them if you want.” 

“I don’t want to compromise your position, Cora. If you speak out, you’re putting yourself in danger. This is my burden. My target.” 

“Self-sacrificing idiot,” Cora mumbled. 

“Did you say something?” Horace asked, hearing her clearly but just wanted to stir the pot a little. 

“No!” Cora squeaked and her cheeks turned red. 

Horace snorted and was met with a pillow to the face. He watched it as it fell and then rose his eyebrows at her. Cora stuck her tongue out at him. “Mature.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I hope you didn’t give me your statue of Koris. You need it more than I do.” “Horace, I am the daughter of a Baron of a rather important fief and a lady-in-waiting to a princess that’s known to snap at people who piss her off. I’m kind of important. No one wants to mess with me. You on the other hand are a mess and a target. You said so yourself. You need her more than I do.” Cora gave him big pleading eyes. 

She had a point. Horace was willing to concede on this point. “You win.” 

Her pleading look brightened. “Thank you!” She bounced off the couch and pulled out another small figurine from her dress. How many pockets did she have? “Um, I wasn’t sure if you wanted this or not.” She pressed the small statue into his hand. 

Horace looked to the statue and his stomach did a weird somersault. It was Exnos, the god of the ostracized and the forgotten. Being ostracized was the most extreme punishment. It rarely happened and it rarely happened. Being ostracized meant being stripped of any titles that someone might have, their house and clan signs were taken away from them and no one was allowed to help them. They were in their own. 

Exnos, he wasn’t an evil god nor was he good. He was just adrift from the rest. He watched over those who were adrift, ostracized, and forgotten. Those on the edges of civilization. Horace never thought that he’d become one of those people. 

Yet here he was. 

Holding the statue of the god who would be looking over him. 

“I know it’s hard and I’m sorry but we’ve got each other. That’s got to count. And now that I’m a little nervous around Will but he’s kind, he’s there for you.”

“More like his assignment.” 

“That’s not true!” Cora scolded Horace “Just think about it. I’m going to go check on her majesty. Don’t do something stupid.” 

“I should say that back at you. I’m the one who’s supposed to be looking out for you.” 

“You’re a fish out of water here, Horace, but that’s kind of you.” 

“Stay safe regardless.” 

“I will. Don’t worry. Bye for now.” She waved goodbye. Horace sighed and put the statue of Exnos down. He’d have to find a place suitable to put him. He didn’t know what would be suitable for him. Certain gods go with certain things. Exnos didn’t go with anything. 

Horace fiddled with the small statue. He’d put it on the mantel with his sword. A sword that gathering dust with disuse. Horace should be thankful that it was gathering dust. It meant peace but Horace couldn’t help but feel useless. Most of Horace’s identity was tired to his sword. It meant he was a protector. He couldn’t protect while he was here. 

“Just you and me buddy.” Horace put down the small statue front and centre. It felt strange, seeing Exnos mingled with the tartan. It was unheard of for this to happen. 

To try to lift his spirits a little, Horace turned back to his table and went to go read the letters. He had quickly thumbed through some of them. McKentick had written him one.

Horace needed some sort of comfort. He felt so alone. 

Cora tried, it was incredibly sweet of her. The others, the Araluens his age, while Horace felt like they were trying to put him at ease out of genuine kindness it just sometimes it felt like they were trying to use him for something. 

Or Horace was just over reacting. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

With a heavy sigh, Horace sat down at his table and pulled the stack of letters towards him. He shuffled them until he got too McKentick’s. 

_Horace,_

_I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. The position that you’ve been put in has been horrible. I wish that I could have gone instead of you but out of all of us, Warmaiden NioLyall believed that you’d fare the best. You have not been jaded as much as the rest of us. McAngus hopes you will be able to bring peace between us and I know he has written to you and asked you to help us but as your surrogate father I ask you to take care of yourself first. It may seem selfish of me but I value you alive more than treaties._

_An update on Isla because I’m sure that you’re thinking about her. You two were always so close. She’s upset, I won’t lie. More at me and McAngus than you. She’s angry that you were sent. I think that most of that anger is just her missing you and regret. It’s been a year since you two have last seen each other. She’s all but moved in to your place now that you’re gone._

_Not to mention I think she regrets breaking up with you before we left. That so much has gone wrong._

_I want to bring you home, I’m trying to convince McAngus but I’m not sure that it’s working so well._

_Stay strong son. You’ll be home soon._

_With love,_

_Argus McKentick_


	7. Chapter 7

The words of the general had stuck with Cassandra for the rest of the week. She kept trying to figure out why. Why hadn’t they done something about the lord? Had they? Cassandra didn’t know what had gone on when it came to the war. Well she knew what the reports told her but apparently she didn’t know enough. Daddy had dismissed her and Crowley to think. To think? What was there to think about? That man had gone against the code of combat! And if it was for the greater good then so be it! 

Horace, gods, he looked so crushed when he saw that nothing had been done. She couldn’t help but think back to the lost and broken boy in balcony. He looked so distraught. 

Now he probably thought that she lied to him. 

She hadn’t! Not that he’d believe her. 

It seemed like that was their relationship. Her trying to do something, something getting fucked up and then them not on speaking terms. It infuriated her! 

Horace seemed like a nice guy. There were glimpses of himself when he seemed to loosen up, Cassandra liked that part of Horace. He was fun and wasn’t afraid to tease her back. He didn’t seem to be intimidated by her title. 

Plus, that kiss. It wasn’t an actual kiss, just a kiss to the knuckles but there was something. Something that she could feel between them. It made her feel something. 

She didn’t know what that feeling was but she wants to feel more of that. 

Cassandra growled and threw the knife that she had in her hand to the target that she had been glaring at. The knife landed with a solid thunk in the hay ball that she had set up. Crowley had taught her the basics of knife throwing but he couldn’t be around all the time. He was the commander but right now Cassandra wished he were there because no matter what, she still couldn’t hit centre. 

She snarled and threw a second knife. 

It landed with a thunk, farther away from the centre than the first target. 

Come on! Why couldn’t she hit centre? 

She let out a very unladylike scream of annoyance. Out of all the weapons that she’d learnt so far, why couldn’t she get knife throwing down?   
  
Cassandra stomped over the target, across the small square that was reserved for that battle school that she hijacked from time to time and yanked the set of knives that she used. She paused mid-action, getting the feeling that someone was watching her. 

Trying not to bring attention to the person watching her, Cassandra asked natural just like Crowley taught her and pulled out the rest the knives. 

As she stalked back to her throwing position, her eyes flickered side to side trying to find who was watching here. 

Cassandra gripped her knives uneasily as she continued to search. 

“You do you know that you aren’t going to do much damage if you hold your knife like that.” The voice seemed drowsy and bored sounding. And familiar. 

Cassandra scowled, snapping her head over to the voice, mad that that someone dared to interrupt her practice, and found Horace tiredly leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. He held up his hands in surrender. She relaxed her face a little.

Somehow she didn’t mind that he was here. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just passing by when I heard the scream. Everything ok?” 

Cassandra had to draw her eyes away from his chest, his white shirt soaked with sweat and made it rather see through, up to his face. He looked a little amused which infuriated her. How dare he be amused at her demise! 

“Yeah, I just can’t,” She waved tiredly at the target. “I mean I can with a sling but with these?” She glared at the knife in her hand. 

“Ah. Yes. The bane of every soldiers’ career. Hurtling objects towards a target.” Horace’s flickered over to the target and back to Cassandra. His eyes didn’t portray any sort of judgment, they actually held some sort of sympathetic amusement to them. 

Strangely she wasn’t that irritated by that. 

“What?” Cassandra asked. “I’ve never seen soldiers trained in projectile weapons. Unless they’re training to be in the archery commandant.” 

Horace shrugged, still leaning against the pillar, and fiddled with the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. “Maybe not to you guys but Scotti soldiers, especially those in the army full time, train in everything. In peace time those soldiers are hunters. We’ve got mouths to feed.” 

“Hun. Never thought of that.” Cassandra filled with a knife. 

“Everyone looks out for each other.” 

“Must be nice,” Cassandra muttered darkly. It was just her and her dad. She had nannies and servants but they were paid to take care of her. They didn’t feel like they genuinely cared for her. It was lonely. she hardly had friends growing up. 

“It is, until you suddenly get a hundred new grandmothers and then you can’t get away with anything.” Horace scratched his nose. He gestured to the knives in her hands. “Do you want help?” 

Cassandra looked down to her knives. She wasn’t getting anywhere currently. “Sure. I guess. What are you doing out here?” 

Horace pushed himself off of the pillar and sauntered over to her. “Sir David wanted to see if I wanted to spar. I’ve got nothing better to do. Show me.” 

Cassandra suddenly felt very awkward. She was used to having eyes on her but not in such an intimate way. He had such intense eyes. She put the knives down on the table so she was only holding one. She shuffled a little so that she could get into position. 

She was still trying to master the half spin throw, and it was fucking hard. She raised her left hand a little and just threw. It was as simple as that. It was an okay throw. It landed with a solid thunk, several inches from the centre. 

She couldn’t help but make a face at the target. 

“The target did nothing wrong. Don’t be mad,” Horace gently chided, slowly making his way over. 

“Yeah, well.” Cassandra scowled at the target. It made her feel better. 

“Relax,” Horace hummed softly. He picked up another knife and handed it to her. She grumpily took from him and got into position. “See you’ve got the basic stance down. You’re just a little off. Do you mind?” 

“Hm?” Cassandra frowned. She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. He gestured to her and her body with a pained sort of look. She kind of get what he was saying. “Oh, sure I guess.” 

“Right. So,” Horace hummed softly. He gently nudged her foot a little forwards with his. He was warm. “Your problem is that you’re a little stiff in execution. Common problem. You need to relax.” 

It was hard not to tense up with them being so close. Horace was mere inches away from her. She reached the top of his chest and she wanted to run her hands over those muscles and explore him in locked room.

Oh. 

So that’s what that feeling was. 

Cassandra took a deep breath in and sighed. Her body loosened and she heard Horace chuckle, actually she felt him chuckle. 

“That’s step one down. The other thing is that you’re throwing from the elbow. Throw from your shoulder, okay?” She shivered under his warm breath. She nodded. “Here.” He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her, his hand over hers. Her shoulder pressed up against his muscular chest. He moved her body along with his. He drew back her arm and threw the knife. This time instead of feeling a pain in her elbow, there was slight twang in her shoulder but it wasn’t painful. 

The knife sailed through the air and landed with a solid thunk in the middle. 

Cassandra’ heart soared. She did! She spun around, a smile plastered against her face to Horace with looked equally as thrilled, maybe a little more subdued but she could see the excitement in his eyes. His mouth was pulled in a distracting smile. 

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.   
  
Time seemed to slow down around them. She could kiss him. He was there all sweaty and pretty looking, to the point where it was almost unfair. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to tangle her hands in his dark hair and leave marks up and down his body. She wanted to loosen him up. Shake off that mysterious outer shell that drove her crazy. 

She knew that this Horace that she’d seen wasn’t the real one. She wanted to know the real one. 

Horace swallowed heavily, leaning forward, closing the small gap between them. Was he going to kiss her. 

Cassandra didn’t know what he was thinking right now but she did see that it seemed that he had a hard time not staring at her. She knew that he wanted what she wanted. 

His face softened and he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes flickered close at the sign of affection and his hand lingered on her cheek for a second longer. He seemed indecisive, wavering between the idea of kissing her or not.

Cassandra was going to help him make that decision. 

Horace’s face flushed when she took his hand and quietly closing the gap between them. The tension between them was palpable. She could cut with a knife. Or maybe a kiss. Horace stumbled over a word that she assumed was in Pictan and bowed his head. 

Her heart beat drowned out everything around her. All she could focus on was his mouth. So warm looking. She wanted to know what he tasted like. 

At the risk of sounding like a naive little girl, Cassandra never had her first kiss. There were too many boys afraid of who her father was. She didn’t didn’t know what it would feel like. 

She was excited. 

Horace shook his head, muttering something to himself, and slid his hand away from her hand, grabbing another knife and held it up. “Want to try again?” He asked, his face still flaming. 

Oh. Okay. Cassandra tried not feel disappointed. 

Why didn’t he kissed her? It seemed like he wanted to. 

She took the knife from him and Horace bowed out of her way. Cassandra shuffled back into position and remembered this time to throw from the shoulder. She felt that twang in her shoulder again. The knife didn’t hit dead centre like the last one but it landed on the outer edge. 

“Haha!” Cassandra nearly cackled. “Oh that felt good.” 

Some of the pressure on her chest lessened. She did feel better. 

Horace gave her a bashful little smile and fiddled with the heavy ring on his left hand. Cassandra wondered where he got such a ring. The style seemed Araluen. It would make sense. He was half Araluen. 

Neither of them really wanted to speak up, so each stood there trying to block out the other person. At least Cassandra had her knife throwing to practice. She eventually ran out, and, apparently, ever the gentlemen Horace headed over to the target with her and pulled out the knives with her 

“Hey princess?” Cassandra blinked and looked up to Horace. He gripped a still embedded knife and squinted in discomfort. “Why are you doing this?” 

“What do you mean?” Cassandra snapped. She winced at the harshness of the tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Horace seemed brush it off. His face didn’t betray much emotion. He looked to the knife he was still gripping. “Well it’s just that, I’ve never really heard of Araluen ladies fighting like this. Especially princesses.” 

Cassandra stared at the target until her eyes slid out of focus. She didn’t know if she really wanted to tell him. Well, he probably heard of some of what happened. “You heard what happened with Morgarath?” She asked. 

“The war. Yeah, we heard.” Horace’s face was blank, which annoyed Cassandra. She wanted to know what he was thinking about. “McAngus wanted to send help but the council said that it’d be too dangerous leaving our border like unprotected like that. I’m sorry if you got caught up in that.” 

Cassandra couldn’t do anything but shrug. “I was visiting the princess of Celtica, Madelydd, at the time when things started to go bad. Dad wanted me to stay while things got sorted out but we didn’t know how long the war would last and he wanted me home so that he could make sure I’m okay. Wargals had gotten into the kingdom. My guard was attacked. I was the only one who made it out. It’s how I met Will actually. He was on a mission with Gilan and another ranger. Long story short but Will and I got captured by Skandians and we were sold as slaves in Hallasholm. We barely made it out.” 

She didn’t realize that she was crying until Horace and put a hand of comfort on her shoulder. “You don’t have to continue. I know about the Temujai and the attempted take over that was thwarted by a Ranger.” 

“Two actually. It was Halt and Will but that was when Will was still an apprentice. I promised myself that if I ever made it out of Skandia alive, I wouldn’t ever let myself be captured like that again.” 

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved to be treated like that.” 

Cassandra gave him a watery smile. Part of her, especially due to recent events, believed that she deserved this. That it was a punishment for being a spoiled brat and taking everything that she had for granted. But here was this man who came from a place that honestly was the sworn enemy of her family’s assuring her that it wasn’t her fault. 

“You know, you don’t seem surprised that a girl wants to learn how to fight.” Cassandra wiped her eyes and pulled out the remaining knives. 

Horace shrugged. “I mean it’s not that uncommon back home. Many girls and women learn how to fight, especially Warmaidens. They’re honestly required to learn how to fight.” 

“Warmaidens?” 

There was the conflicting look again. Like he wanted to tell her but something was holding back. He took a hesitant breath in. “They’re the female family members of the warlords. Wives, daughters, sisters, aunts, well you get the point. Infighting is common within the clans and warmaidens become valuable because if someone holds onto apart of a warlord’s family, though it is a horrendous offence to hold a Warmaiden hostage, then you can dictate what they do. So most warlords train their daughters to fight.” 

“Interesting. Are all Warlords men?” Cassandra asked. She was desperate for any tidbit for information on the Scotti. There was so little. 

“More often than not. The title isn’t inherited like your title is. The current warlord choses the next Warlord and they usually chose from his generals. While it is common for women to learn how to fight to defend themselves, they don’t fill the ranks of the army.” 

Cassandra fiddled with one of the knives. “So why don’t you let girls into the army?” 

“We do. It’s just,” Horace hesitated, thinking over his words. “War is messy. We lose lives. If we lose men then we can continue but women? They give life and should be honoured that way. Sending them out to war would be devastating. They carry on our clans. They can join but many chose not too. There are legends of great female warriors.” 

Men here in Araluen just assumed that women were weak and couldn’t hold out her own. She’s already faced her share of backlash for being the crown princess. There had been people campaigning for one of her male cousins to get the throne. Luckily her father had cut through all that bullshit. Alyss had the same problem, a lot of stuffy old men looked down at her and it took her a lot longer to get things done with. 

It sounded like women had it a lot better in Scotti. 

“Lucky them.” 

The corner’s of Horace’s mouth turned up in amusement. “I think that the constant fighting between the clans takes away from that.” 

“Suppose you have a point,” Cassandra agreed. 

Horace shrugged and began to fiddle with the ring again. Under the fabric of his shirt, Cassandra could see the outline of a necklace. The pendant part looked like a ring. A ring much smaller than the one that he wore on his hand. 

“Horace?” 

“Hm?” Horace looked over to Cassandra with that all too common carefully blank face. There was an eyebrow cocked, at least that betrayed some sort of emotion. Here, Cassandra thought that rangers were bad at showing their emotions! 

“I’m sorry that we haven’t done anything about that man who led those attacks. I don’t understand why we didn’t do anything and why we’re still not doing anything.” Cassandra glared at the spot just past Horace. 

“He still hasn’t come to a conclusion?” Horace asked. 

Cassandra shook her head. 

“I’m not surprised. Didn’t expect change in a day.” Horace looked a little disappointed. 

“And yet?” 

“And yet part of me hoped that it would. I miss home.” There were tears in his eyes, Cassandra couldn’t help but tear up a little. 

“Maybe you could tell me about it? That might help.” Cassandra batted her eyelashes at him. She wanted to know more and make him feel better. Was it selfish to do that? And maybe if she got him alone, maybe they could eventually do something else. Not that learning about Scotti culture wasn’t interesting. 

Horace considered her proposition and then shrugged. “Something tells me that you’d keep bugging me until I give in.” He smiled at his own humour. 

“Ha. Ha.” Cassandra made a face at him. She didn’t mean to make him laugh but it was still a welcomed sound. “Let me go get out of this, and I’ll meet you back in your rooms?” 

“I’m sure you’ll show up always.” 

“Ass.” She poked his chest. Shit. It was all firm and nice.  
  
“Mhm. See you in a bit, princess.” Horace gently bumped his boulder against hers and headed off. Cassandra smiled to herself as she watched him leave.   
***  
Cassandra looked through her closet, wondering what she should wear. Why was she so concerned about this all of the sudden? Horace has literally seen her in her training garb, kind of at her lowest, literally anything else would be better than that. 

Would red be too bold? Yeah. Just a little. 

He’s already seen her in pale green and blue. So, she had to try something else. She did have a cute forest green one. Oh! Or yellow. 

“Um, the ranger Will is here to speak with you.” Cora appeared in the entrance of Cassandra’s bedroom. Despite Cora being around Castle Araluen that from time to time was crawling with Rangers, she was still nervous about the idea of being around them. 

Didn’t her father tell her that the Ranger Corps didn’t use black magic? 

“Thanks Cora, let him in.” Cassandra turned back to her closet. 

“Alright.” She heard Cora lead Will in the bedroom. She wasn’t sure where Cora went. 

“Hey, Will, how’s it going?” Cassandra spared him a glance before digging through her closet. Where was that green dress? 

Will hesitated and Cassandra looked back to him. He looked uncertain. He gripped one of his knives for comfort, in a similar fashion to Horace gripping his sword for comfort. “Look, I don’t mean to overstep my bounds but as your friend, I gotta ask. Do you like, like like Horace?”

Cassandra put down the dress that she was man-handling and frowned at Will. Behind him, Cora looked heavily invested in her work but Cassandra figured that she might be overhearing. 

“What makes you say that?” Cassandra tensed up. She’s only just realized that she might like Horace in that way. Sure she had thought that he was pretty but she had dismissed him for his piss poor socialization tactics.

“I saw you two. Just now. In the training yard.” 

Shit. “Do you know if anyone else saw?” Cassandra asked. Horace was a private person, if rumour got out that he was sort of courting Cassandra, then he was going to be faced with a lot of hate. 

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone.” 

That made her feel a little better. “Okay, maybe I do like him a little. Can you blame me? I’ve seen you check him out too.” It was hard not to look, especially at his back muscles. 

Will shrugged. “I’m not denying that. But my crush, if you can call it that, is never going to be acted upon. I’ve got Alyss. And I’m not you. I’m not telling you to stop but be careful. For both of you. Horace is a little out of his depth and just wants to go home.”

In the background Cassandra could see Cora make a face at her embroidery. 

Cassandra hadn’t thought of that. She had been so wrapped in her feelings that she didn’t think about if this was good for both of them. Maybe she reign it back a little. “You’re right.” 

“If he’s down then fine, go for it. But I have to ask, why Horace? He seems like an odd choice.” Will asked, flopping down into a seat. 

Cassandra shrugged and turned back to her closest, going back to hunting through her closet trying to find that forest green dress. “He’s pretty. And doesn’t give a damn about my title. The first time that’s happened. Don’t try to get out of this, you stumbled over yourself for ages.”

Cassandra tossed an accusatory look over her shoulder to and Will’s mouth snapped shut. “Okay. Fair,” he mumbled, casting his eyes to the wall past her. 

There were more reasons why Cassandra liked Horace. He was mysterious and intriguing, the complete opposite of an open book and well, Cassandra was a curious person. She wanted figure out his quirks. Plus he was kind as he opened more to her. She felt safe around him. 

“I don’t know, Will. He’s sweet. I want to know more about him.” 

“I get that. Never really expected him. Not complaining. He’s just so straight laced compared to the wild nature of what we thought that the Scotti’s are.” 

Cora let out a little cough and both Cassandra and Will looked over to her. She looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just your interpretation of Scotti’s are so wildly inaccurate. Horace’s straight laced nature is very common. The only time you don’t see that is when they’re drunk, which admittedly is often, and they get a little crazy.” 

“And you know this how?” Cassandra asked. She knew that Cora mentioned some advisers with Scotti decent but why would she know about this?

“Well, I mean,” Cora stumbled over her words a little. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Despite what a lot of people think, Norgate has a lot of people with Scotti heritage.” 

“Horace mentioned there used to be a clan there before Araluen took over.” Cassandra finally managed to find the dress. She pulled it out and tossed it onto the divider. 

“Mhm. Lots did go back into Picta but there was a large group that stayed in Norgate. There’s lots of festivals. They’re a lot of fun. There’s a festival called the Fest of Freedom that happens in the summer. It’s so much fun. There’s lots of events based on throwing things. Never understood that part.” 

Will frowned. “I mean, that’s a thing in all festivals.” 

“I mean yes, that is true. But I mean the majority of events are about throwing things. And it’s not small things. There’s an event called the Caber toss. Where someone holds up a large wooden pole and then throws it as far. It’s fun to watch, I just don’t understand.” 

Interesting. 

“While that’s interesting, I should probably go. Just wanted to check in with you, Cass.” Will smiled tightly at Cassandra and then headed out. He gave Cora a little nod and then disappeared through the door. 

Cora let out a little sigh what seemed to be relief as once he disappeared. 

Cassandra quickly changed into the dress. It wasn’t one of her crazy formal ones, she had plenty of those though, but it was a simple dress that she thought that Horace might like. It was a deep green with lace edges. She didn’t wear it much which was a shame because it was super comfortable. 

Cora looked up when Cassandra came back out. “Do you really like him?” She asked. She then flushed bright red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” 

“It’s fine. You probably would have heard about it soon anyways. Apparently I can’t keep a secret. I kind of do. I guess.” 

“It’s not really not my place but please be careful, your majesty. Horace is a really nice guy and please don’t break his heart. He’s going through enough.” Cora gave Cassandra big pleading eyes. 

Cassandra sighed and sat on the couch next to Cora. “I don’t want to. I like him and I just want to know him more. You heard me confess to Will.” 

Cora’s pleading looked softened and gave Cassandra a knowing look. “I understand. Horace, well, give him enough reason and he’ll stand by you forever. He’ll probably be able to bear the weight of this but don’t put him through if it’s not that serious.” 

“I promise I won't. We’re still in the stage where half of the time, he can’t stand to be around me.” 

She wasn’t expecting the dainty little giggle from Cora. “I don’t think that’s the case your majesty.” 

“Yeah, and how do you know that? Have you and Horace been having midnight affairs?” Cassandra half teased, half being serious. Was she stepping into something?  
“Ew. No. He feels like a brother to me.” Cora made a face. “No. No. Mom and daddy sent a letter asking me to make sure that Horace doesn’t feel too out of depth here. Like mentioned, I know some things about Scotti culture and tradition. He’s opened up to me because I guess he likes my parents?” 

That would be true, Horace did travel with Baron Theo and he was the type of person that it was hard not to like. Cassandra never met Cora’s mother so she wouldn’t know. But there was a feeling inside of her the Cora was lying to Cassandra. About what, Cassandra couldn’t pin that on.   
  
Cassandra hummed uncertainty. “Do you think that I shouldn’t go?” 

“Well it would be rude to stand him up but maybe reign in the crush a little?” Cora did one of those squint smiles. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see you later?” Cora nodded, turning back to her work. “Go have some fun. That’s an order from your princess.” Cassandra gently shooed a pouty Cora from her room. “Go for a walk. Or read a book. What do you like to do for fun?” 

Cora considered it as they started walking. “Back home I liked to hunt. Not the hunting part, mostly just being out in the woods and seeing what they had to offer. Can’t do it much here.” 

“Never would have thought that you were much of a hunter.” 

“Again, it’s not the hunting. It’s the sense of freedom. But then again, there is that rush of satisfaction that you get when managed to hit your target,” Cora hummed. 

Cassandra thought back to finally hitting the middle of the target and how elevated she felt. How she felt, for only a few seconds, like she could conquer the world. “Yeah, I get that.” 

“Maybe I’ll go throw some knives. That’s always fun.” 

“You throw knives?” Cassandra absolutely perked up. It would be nice to have someone to do it with. 

“Haven’t in a while, but it’s a good time to start up again. I should go, see if I brought some knives with me.” Cora played with a small lock of hair. She frowned in thought. 

“If you don’t have any, you can borrow mine. I dumped them onto the table in the living room. Hard to miss them,” Cassandra offered. 

“Thank you, your majesty.” Cora smiled brightly at Cassandra. Cassandra smiled back. “I have to go and you best be hurrying too.” She gently bumped Cassandra with a hip and then split from her by heading down a separate hall. 

With her heartbeat in her throat, Cassandra headed to Horace’s rooms. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. It wasn’t like she was going to confess to him that she liked him. She was just going to spend time with him. They were friends. That’s it. 

Her footsteps echoed down the stone walls as she took the back hallways, away from the main hallways. She didn’t want to draw attention to Horace. He didn’t deserve that. 

Soon all she could hear was her heartbeat. She dug her nails into the palm in an effort to calm herself. It didn’t really work. All it did was hurt her hands. 

Cassandra stood in front of Horace’s door. She took in a deep breath in, steadied her nerves and then knocked. 

She heard Horace move within and a second later the door opened, revealing a sleepy looking Horace. He gave Cassandra a bright smile. “Hey princess.” His voice was low and husky sounded. The back of Cassandra’s neck got a little hot. 

She was not going to do something stupid like spill her guts to him. She wasn’t. She was going to just going to be friendly with him. That’s all. 

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Horace chuckled and shook his head, the heat on the back of her got hotter. “No it’s alright. Come in.” He moved to let her in. Cassandra gratefully slid into the room. 

It changed a little since Cassandra was last there. There was a few decorations scattered across the room. His armour and shield rested on stand in a corner. There was a quilt draped over the back of the couch. It looked homely. 

The door to his room was opened and Cassandra saw on top of the dark blue covers was a thick fur blanket that looked super soft. 

“You decorated!” 

Horace snorted in amusement. “More like Cora did. Came waltzing in, insulted my decor, and then came back and decorated.” 

“That’s sweet of her.” 

“Yeah, she is.” 

“So.” Cassandra twirled her dress, not sure what to say. Horace had gone to lean the couch and gripped the edges of it. He seemed a little uncomfortable. “I was wondering about that ring you wear. You play with it a lot.” 

Horace looked down to his left hand and his face became stormy. “Oh, um, it was my father’s.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

What a great way to start the conversation. Bring up a dead parent. 

Horace shrugged, looking back up to Cassandra. “It’s fine. My parents passed away when I was ten. I don’t remember much of them. One of the generals of my clan, McKentict, took me in. Not to mention the whole village decided to try to parent me.” 

He didn’t look fine. He looked a little lost. 

“Well you’re a little luckier than me. I don’t have any memories of my mom. So cheers?” Cassandra jumped up onto the couch next to him, gently knocking her shoulder against his. 

That got a sad laugh out of him. “Cheers.” He knocked his shoulder back against hers. His eyelashes fluttered against his freckled cheeks. She tried to ignore that their hands were inches apart. “So, what did you want to know?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know a whole lot about Scotti culture, and if our homes are to ever be friends I should know a little, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah. It would look good for you.” 

“I know now about Warmaidens and how women learn to fight. Then Cora mentioned the Fest of Freedom? And the Caber toss?” 

Horace let out a little wheeze. “It’s one of the most popular events. The Fest of Freedom happens at the end of every summer. Each clan puts down their weapons even if we’re at war and we gather, not all the clans at once, that’d be mayhem, but a bunch of different clans gather and celebrate. It’s a way to relax but compete. There’s some sword fighting and wrestling competitions too, as well as the dancing. It’s one of the main events. Everyone goes into it. The winner is almost treated like a god.” 

“The dancing?” 

“I’m not sure how to explain it, but there’s a lot of jumping and pointing your toes. And dancing around swords. That being said, the McAngus clan has won that competition for six years in a row. We’re proud of Isla.” 

“That’s a pretty name.” 

“Don’t tell her that. It’ll get to her ego,” Horace said that with that amused tone that Cassandra used when she slightly insulted Will. 

“You’re friends with her?” 

“She’s McKentick’s niece. Couldn’t avoid her if I wanted. You know, you remind me of her.” 

“Why’s that.” 

“You’re stubborn, not afraid to speak your mind, and willing to fight me if need be.” 

Cassandra squinted at him. He looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or not.” 

“I’m not. I swear! Isla is one of my closest friends. She great. Though I am terrified if you two ever meet up.” He collapsed into giggles when she frowned in mild annoyance at him. She stuck out her tongue at him as he tumbled to the floor. 

“Asshole.” Horace wheezed as he sat up. His smile was a little melancholic. “Do you miss her?” 

“I do. I grew up with her, I was hoping that she might write but she didn’t.” Horace sighed unhappily. 

“You got letters?” 

Horace shrugged. “After McKentick brought over the soldiers, he sent them through Baron Theo to Cora. It was pretty much just friends and my soldiers wishing me well and the niceties. McAngus pretty much told me that he was sorry and that I was doing a great service for the clan. The regular bullshit.” 

“That’s kind of them.” Cassandra wouldn’t have that many people who’d write to her like that. Her dad, Alyss, Will, maybe Halt or Crowley. 

“It is. It feels like rubbing salt in the wound though.” 

“Again, I’m really sorry that things aren’t going quicker. I don’t understand why he’s doing this,” Cassandra grounded out the words. 

“I do. I don’t know who the general was but depending on his status, your father probably wouldn’t be able to just arrest, or whatever he plans on doing, the man because that might incite his supporters to riot. And I doubt that your kingdom wants another civil war.” 

“No we really don’t,” Cassandra sighed. She couldn’t imagine the horror that might bring again. Their soldiers were exhausted from Morgarth’s second uprising, and then the war with the Scotti. It would be her worst nightmare and she’s be powerless to do anything. That was, well that was obvious. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Why had Horace, who wasn’t even involved in Araluen politics figured it out?

Horace’s face softened. He stood up, returning to his original position, and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Cassandra sniffled and dug her head into his shoulder. She just wanted to forget that happened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” 

“It’s fine,” Cassandra mumbled. “I shouldn’t be trying to hide from certain things. I’m the Crown Princess. I can’t do that.” 

“Princess,” Horace sighed, she liked it when he called her princess, the arm around her shoulder tightened as he tucked her closer to him. “Just because you’re the Crown Princess, doesn’t mean that you have to sacrifice your well being for your kingdom. You matter too. Don’t let all of this get to your head. You’re more important.” 

“Thank you Horace.” Cassandra took Horace’s hand and squeezed it, marvelling a little at the size difference between them. 

“It’s what I’m here for. Emotional support for you stubborn girls.” He laughed a little when she elbowed him. 

“Does Isla come to you crying about boys and such?” Cassandra asked. 

“Not about boys. Mostly about how her mother wants grandbabies and other gossip. It’s very riveting. Especially in the way that Isla tells it. It’s the highlight of my evening.” 

Cassandra snorted in amusement. 

They continued to sit in silence for a bit. She was fine by this. She felt comfortable with him. She understood a little of what Cora was saying. She wasn’t terrified that he’d tell the world about her. 

“I’ve got a question.” 

“Go for it.” 

“Those idols you have on the mantel. What are they?” 

“Oh.” Horace let out a little laugh and stood up. She let out a little whine at the disappearance of his warmth but watched as he walk around the couch. She spun around so that her feet were resting on the couch position. She rested her chin on her hands as he plucked one of the idols from the mantel and sat back on the couch with her. He passed the idol to her, leaning just a little into her space. 

It was small and wooden. The idol looked worn and old. There was an old woman’s face carved into it. Though the woman didn’t look kind and motherly that Cassandra expected to go along with and old woman’s face. She looked determined and little angry. 

“They’re idols to the gods. Everyone’s got a set in their homes. It varies from house to house, everyone’s got different gods depending on what their job is. But everyone’s got Gethys.” He tapped the old lady on the face. 

“Why’s that?” Cassandra looked over the woman. She didn’t look extraordinary. She didn’t have any weapons on her and there were no allusions to magic. 

She just looked like an angry grandmother, which now that Cassandra thought more about it, was terrifying enough. 

Her grandmother was a sight to see when she was angry. 

“Gethys is the goddess of divine justice. She’ll right any wrongs. You want her in your house.” 

Interesting.

“Also, mothers use her to threaten their kids when they get too unruly. It’s pretty successful.” 

Cassandra let out a bark of laughter and then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning bright red. That was a lot louder and a lot more unladylike than she wanted it to be. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’ve got a cute laugh.” 

Cassandra’s cheeks turned bright red and she fiddled with the statue. “So, um, what are the gods that you keep?” She asked.   
  
Horace gently took Gethys out of her hands and put her back on the mantel. “I’ve got Koris. Give me a second.” He headed over to his armour. He seemingly plucked a small statue out of nowhere and then came back. 

This time the statue was of a young woman. She had broad shoulders and carried a shield with a determined look. 

“So is she the goddess of war?” Cassandra asked. 

“Protection actually. Like Gethys, you want her in your home. And there’s Leldir.” Horace grabbed another from mantel. Cassandra gently put down Koris on a table and took Leldir from him. “He’s the war god. Soldiers take him with him when they go into war, as a way to hope for success in battle.” 

“Hun.” It was a weird way to think about going into war. Cassandra would have thought that they would pray to come home in one piece. She put Leldir on the table next to Koris. “Who’s that?” She pointed to the one that sat in the middle of the mantel. 

Horace let out a pained sigh. His body seemed to stiffen when he looked over to the small statue. He slowly got up and picked up the statue, looking at it in mild disgust. “Exnos. The god of the ostracized and forgotten. Cora thought that it would help.” 

“I’m not sure I follow.” Cassandra frowned at him. 

“Being ostracized is the worst punishment to the Scotti. You’re stripped of your house signs and tartan and you’re pretty much forbidden to interact with other clans. They can take you in make apart of their clan but it’s unlikely they’ll accept you.” 

“Alright. Continue.” Cassandra waved for him continue. 

“Even those who are ostracized have family who care for them. So they pray to Exnos to protect them. He’s not a good or bad god. He just watches over them.” 

“So why do you have him?” 

“Because I’m all but formally ostracized. I’m away from my clan, I’m adrift. Cora gave this to me so that I’d have someone from home looking for me.” Horace could pull his eyes away from the small statues. “The gods are what I have left.” 

Cassandra claimed off of the couch and walk over to Horace. She plucked the statue and put it back on the mantel. She took both of his hands in hers. His eyes were bright with tears. “Horace, I know that I and the others can’t replace your clan, but we’re here for you, even if you don’t trust us that much.” 

Horace’s mouth wavered. “Thank you princess.” He was inches away from her, she could feel the warmth radiating from him. It was intoxicating. 

“Call me Cassandra.” The words came out more as a breath than actual words. 

There was a small smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “Alright, Cassandra.” His voice was so soft and filled with emotion. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. Where his fingers touched her skin, goosebumps appeared. 

They were at a crossroads again, standing barely apart and both wanting to move but the either was too afraid to make the first move. 

Cassandra wasn’t sure what changed; a second later Horace’s lips were on hers and his hands slipped around her waist, pulling her up against his body. Cassandra’s eye’s fluttered closed and her body seemed to melt against him. 

She could feel his warm breath against her skin as his lips seemingly crashed against hers. She tugged at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

This feeling of floating on clouds was so intoxicating. Better than any wine that she’s ever had. He tasted like cinnamon. Cassandra gigged a little at the thought. She didn’t know why she found it so funny. 

“Horace,” Cassandra whimpered against his lips. She didn’t want to this stop. 

Horace responded by picking her up by her thighs. Cassandra squeaked and wrapped her arm around his neck. She dropped her forehead against his and steadied her breathing. 

She caught Horace’s eyes and both broke into giggles. 

He carried her over the sofa and safely deposited her onto the couch. He climbed onto the couch after her. Cassandra tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to her against. 

Horace was more than happy to start kissing him again. She felt his right hand slipped around her waist and rest on the small of her back and the left hand rested on her upper thigh. 

He was hungry, his lips chasing hers and greedily crashed his against hers when they caught up. 

Cassandra tangled her hands into his thick dark hair and marvelled at the silkiness of it. 

Once again they had to come up for air. Cassandra sighed happily and dropped her head onto the couch cushion. Horace, in turn, started kissing the soft skin of her neck. He hit a ticklish spot and Cassandra squeaked in surprise, pushing him off. 

Horace laughed and brushed his hair out of his face. His mouth was red and a little swollen looking and his hair looked like he rolled out of bed, it was sticking up like crazy. 

Cassandra reached over and tried to smooth over the mass of hair. He caught one of her wrists and pressed a kiss onto the skin of her inner wrist all while remaining eye contact. It sent a thrill up her spine. 

He put down her hand and let out a lovely little laugh. Cassandra sighed happily and watched him finally finish fixing his untamed hair. 

“What are you thinking about, hm?” Horace put a hand back on her upper leg and leaned an elbow on the back of the couch and leaned on his closed fist. Cassandra liked that soft look he gave her. 

“Not much.” Cassandra traced small patterns on his knee. “For once I’m glad.” 

“Glad to be of help.”   
  
She didn’t know what to say. What did one say after a make out session? “How long?” 

“Hm?” Horace seemed to snap back to attention. 

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” 

“Oh.” Horace let out little laugh. He was so much cuter when he laughed. “Since I first saw you in the throne room.” He flushed a little, looking at her through his eyelashes. 

Cassandra felt herself go red. Oh. She did remember him looked over to her a lot in the throne room but she had just assumed it was because he knew she was the princess. 

“My pretty lady in blue.” Horace hummed. Her face flushed even more. Horace smiled at her demise. “What about you?” 

“I think I wanted for a bit, since that day under the tree but didn’t realize it until the courtyard.” 

Horace nodded and fell silent. 

Neither of them had much else to say. Everything has been said. 

They stayed there with Cassandra’s legs draped over his and their hands on each other. Cassandra traced his features that almost glowed in the late afternoon sun. 

As she continued traced Horace’s features, she thought about what Will and Cora had been saying to her. That she needed to be clear with Horace. 

“Horace?” 

“Hm?” 

“What’s going to happen?” Cassandra asked. Her voice was soft as she couldn’t bring herself to raise it even more. 

“What do you mean?” Horace asked, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her hand. 

“I mean,” Cassandra sighed. “I come with all these stupid attachments. I’m the, unfortunately, princess. If we even think about ‘us’, you’re going to have to prepare for a lot of criticism. You should understand this.” 

Horace looked in deep thought. He gently tapped on her knee. “I understand. There is also more. Cass, even though we’re trying for the same goal, we’re on opposite sides. I don’t want what we have or what we could have to be destroyed by politics.” 

Right. Cassandra kept forgetting that Horace wasn’t here voluntarily. That he was a prisoner. And that he’d leave as soon as things were well enough for him to leave. Panic rose in her throat. No, she needed to stay calm. 

He was trying to make sure that neither of them got extremely hurt. 

“I understand.” Cassandra stood up, straightening her skirts and was trying very hard not to ty. It was stupid. She barely knew him and she just realized that she liked him. 

“Princess.” Horace sounded panicked and he sat up. 

He started to get up but Cassandra gently pushed him down. Her hand gently cupped his face and he gripped the hand on his cheek. His dark eyes, glinting in the sunlight, were pleading with her. 

God damn this pretty boy. She couldn’t leave. Not like this. She bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips. Horace hungrily dove into the kiss again. He stood up and cupped her face with both hands.   
Cassandra closed her eyes and went along with the kiss. She wanted this so badly but her heart wasn’t into this. 

Horace pressed his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice broke a little. She believed her. 

“I know. I know Horace. But like you said. We can’t destroy what we have already.” Cassandra had to leave before she started crying. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then left. She left him standing there as she quickly hurried out of the room. 

Once she was safely far enough away from Horace’s room, she burst into tears. She hid in an empty room and buried her face into her hands. Hot tears poured down her face. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

Crying over a boy that she barely knew. 

At least with Will, she had known him longer. They had gone through things together. Horace? She’s known him a month. And half of the time she hated him. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

Cassandra sniffled and wiped her eyes, slowly picking herself up. She peeked out of the room to make sure that no one was there. She quietly slid out of the room and hurried her way to her rooms. 

She closed the door to her living room behind her and let out a little sigh. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. She made her way to her bedroom, undoing the stupid dress and shucking it to the floor. She didn’t want to see it anymore. It wasn’t like she had to go anywhere else today so Cassandra pulled on her nightgown and crawled under her sheets.   
***  
The door opened to her living room, which Cassandra could hear because she was too lazy to close the door to her bedroom and she heard someone, probably Cora, move through the living room, humming to themselves. 

“Good evening your majesty,” Cora called over to the bedroom. 

Cassandra grunted and pulled the covers further over her head. 

“Oh, is everything alright?” 

Cassandra didn’t answer. 

The door opened again. “Hey, I’m just coming to pop in for a bit. Do you mind?” It was Alyss. Cassandra did mind but knowing Alyss, she would just pester her until Cassandra told her what was wrong. 

“I’m not sure that her majesty would like company currently, Lady Alyss.” Cora came to Cassandra’s defence. 

Cassandra sighed and sat up. She’ll have to deal with this at some point. She should deal with it now and get it over and done with. Both Alyss and Cora looked over to Cassandra. “You look terrible.” Alyss rose an eyebrow at Cassandra. 

“Ha ha.” Cassandra made a face at Alyss.   
  
“What happened?” Alyss came into the bed room and sat on the edge of the bed. 

Cora followed Alyss’ path and came into the bedroom and scooped up the fallen dress and went to the closet to put it away. “I see that things with Horace didn’t go well.” She looked crestfallen. 

“What things with Horace?” Alyss looked over to Cora. From Cassandra’s angle, she could see Cora gave herself a little smirk. What was that about? What was going on between them?

“I told Horace I liked him. We kissed and then subsequently ended things.” Cassandra fiddled with her hands. She couldn’t look them in the eyes. 

“Could you explain more?” Alyss asked. 

Cassandra sniffled, wiping her nose with the back her hand. “I took your advice,” Cassandra looked over to Cora who looked a little panicked. “And spoke to him after we ended up making out, which wasn’t what I planned to do, and told him that if we were going to think about being together he needed to understand what was going to happen. Then he told me that maybe we shouldn't be together because we were technically on opposite sides and he didn’t want to ruin what little we had.” 

Cassandra started to cry a little again. Tear spilled onto cheeks and Cassandra cursed herself again for getting so worked up over a boy. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Alyss gathered Cassandra up in her arms. Cassandra curled up in Alyss’ arms. 

“It’s stupid. I barely even know him. I don’t know why I’m so worked up.” 

Cora looked shocked and confused. She put her face in her arms. “I don’t understand. He’s, didn’t, no! Idiot. Idiot. If you’d excuse me, your majesty, I need to go and yell at him or do something.” 

“Go. I don’t really care.” Cassandra waved her off. She clung onto Alyss, who was gently rocking Cassandra, and didn’t bother looking up. She was too exhausted to care about anything. 

Cora hesitated. Cassandra just wanted her to go. She wanted to wallow in self pity alone. “Just go, Cora. I’ll stay.” 

“Alright. There’s dinner on the table if you’re hungry, your majesty.” Cora curtsied and quietly slid out of bedroom, leaving Cassandra alone with Alyss. 

“It’s stupid. I barely know him and it was like one kiss.” 

“Cass, don’t downplay your emotions. What you felt was genuine. Accept it, learn from it and then move on. It hurts now but, I hate to agree with Horace but this might be for the best. The more that you would get attached to him the harder it’ll be in the future.” 

“Why must my life so fucking hard. Falling for a boy who hates my home?” Cassandra sniffled, wiping her eyes free of tears and curled onto Alyss’ lap. She smiled when Alyss started to play with her hair. It felt soothing and it slowly brought Cassandra’s tear to stop. 

“You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. It just happens.” 

“This sucks.” Cassandra glared at nothing. 

“I know.” 


	8. Chapter 8

That ended terribly. Horace hadn’t been able to do anything when the princess left. He wanted to run after her and hold her and just keep apologizing over and over again. He knew how that felt. And had sworn that he would never do this to another person. Yet, here he was. 

Horace paced around his room, not sure what to do, needing to go and do something. He ran a thumb over his mouth, his mouth still tingled a little and he could still feel her soft mouth on his. 

Her hurt look wouldn’t get out of his mind. It was driving him out of his mind. He didn’t play with her emotions for the fun of it, he just thought that it would have been the better option for the future. He wasn’t good enough for her. She was the Crown Princess and Horace was disgraced, despite what others said, general from a clan that hated Araluen. 

Cassandra would find someone who was better suited for her. Not Horace. Someone who could love and respect her properly. 

Duty and the clan came first. 

There was a small tap on Horace’s door and his throat closed up. Was it a guard or a knight coming to upholding the princess’ honour? No. That was stupid. If that was the case, they wouldn’t knock. They’d just barge in. 

He really hoped that this was the case. He couldn’t disappoint McAngus. 

Horace took in a deep breath and then opened the door just a crack. It was Will. So it could go either way. “What are you doing here?” Horace asked, opening the door for Will. 

“Can’t I check in on a friend?”   
  
“Wasn’t aware that we were on that term currently.” Horace closed the door behind Will. 

Will frowned. “I feel like I should be insulted? I mean you did help me with Alyss. Doesn’t that count?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Alright?” Horace shrugged. 

“So I lied a little. I did have a specific thing I wanted to ask.” 

“Shoot.” Horace crossed his arms. 

“Do you have feelings about Cass?” Will asked.

How? Did Cassandra speak to him? No. He was too calm. Way too calm. “Why do you ask?” Horace carefully kept his voice calm. 

“I saw you two, you know, earlier. In the courtyard?” Will gestured out of the window. 

Oh. Horace’s neck went home got a little warm. He frowned a little. Had he gotten soft? Why hadn’t he sensed Will? Horace scratched his nose. “I do. Not going to lie but I’m not stupid. It’s a bad idea. I told her, a little too late.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Will asked. 

“Kissed her,” Horace mumbled. “Then told her that we shouldn’t do this because what our home Didn’t take it well.” 

“Shit.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to be that person, thought that I was doing the right thing.” 

“She’ll understand.” 

It felt like she did but it didn’t help that he still felt horrible about it. “I hurt her, Will. She didn’t cry but I could see that she wanted too. I fucked up and with her and with what little relationship I have with the king. I can’t lose my clan. And if I fuck up with the king like I think I have, I will be ostracized. The clan is all I have left.” Horace started to tear up. The thought of losing what little he had was terrifying. 

He wanted kids, he wanted to watch them grow up with all of the other kids of the clan. He wanted to settle down. 

“Horace, I don’t think that’ll happen.” 

Horace was saved from answering by someone banging on his door, rapidly and angrily. Shit. This couldn’t be good. Horace took a deep breath in and opened the door. “Horace Altman!” Cora yelled, bursting into the room. “You absolute little shit. What the hell?” She stopped abruptly when she saw Will. “Oh hello, Ranger Will.” It was strange hearing her snap between those two moods. 

“So you talked to the princess?” 

“Yeah no shit. What the fuck? I thought you liked her? Those moony eyes were proof enough!” Her blazing anger reminded Horace very strongly over her mother. Which scared him shitless. 

Will, wisely, decided to stay out of this. He shrunk more into the shadows and let Cora go nuts. 

“I do.” Horace couldn’t bring himself fully speak. 

“Then what the fuck?” Cora gesture wildly around. Horace had step back to avoid getting hit. 

“Cora, I can’t. I can’t do this. Do you know what might happen if I decided to be with her and it turned horrible? I can’t put the fate of the clan at risk like that! The kiss was mistake. A wonderful one but still a mistake.” 

“Screw the clan! Do something for you!” 

“Cora, the clan is all I have left. I wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t one.” 

“There is life outside of it! I know it’s important but fucking shit man!” Cora stared at him, looking like a crazed animal. There was little pin pricks of tears in her eyes. “You’re half Araluen! You’ve got family here.” 

“Yeah, family who tried to kill my father. They’re not my family.” 

“Ugh. That’s, not. Stupid. Stop that!” Cora snapped. “Get your head out of your ass and stop being so much like a general!” She slammed the door behind her so hard that it rattled a little. 

Horace sighed and put his face in his hands. She didn’t get it. She’ll inherit her father’s title. She was guaranteed a position and security in life. General titles could be taken away, Horace had to actively work to keep his life the way it was. 

“You okay?” Will asked. 

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Horace snapped. He sighed. “Sorry.” 

“You know what, it’s understandable. I’m sorry that things aren’t going to work out with Cass. I think you two would have been happy.” 

“Yeah. Well, duty comes first.” The words would taste like ash in his mouth. 

Will didn’t look like he completely believed what Horace saying but didn’t try to argue with him, thankfully, and then shrugged. “You want me to stay? I can go.” 

Horace didn’t know. He wanted to be alone and process things on his own but he didn’t want to be alone. All he wanted to do was leave this castle. Just for a little bit. Get from fresh air. 

“I can ask Crowley and see maybe if we could get out here for a bit? Give you and Cassandra some space. You’re probably going a little crazy seeing you’re here but used to living in a forest.” 

“Please.” 

“Right. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” 

Before Horace could say anything, Will dashed out of the door and once again Horace was left alone. He didn’t know what to do, so he decided to tidy up. It was supposed to be Erik’s job but he had been busy, just starting a small part time job with the library, and Horace tried to help out where he could. Also he wasn’t used to just letting people do all the work for him. 

Isla would murder him if he tried to pull that. 

Not long after Will had left, while Horace was in the middle of fiddling with things around the room, there was a small knock. It was too soon for Will to be back so Horace had no idea who this could be. He put Koris back where she belonged and headed to the door. 

Out of all the people in the castle, Horace was not expecting the king to be there. “Oh hello your majesty.” 

“No need to be formal, general, not now.” 

“Then there’s no need to call me general.” Horace let the king into his room and cautiously closed the door behind him. He looked over to the king who was looking over the small room, his eyes falling onto the idols, much like the princess had earlier. “Any reason you’re visiting me, at night with no security?” 

He had a bad feeling about all of this. 

“I wanted to speak to you in private.” The king sighed and nervously straightened out his jacket. Oh no. Horace rubbed his face, in anticipation of the horrible news. “There’s been sightings of Scotti men in the fiefs around the border and they’re not the typical raids we see. They came in and didn’t go back.” 

“You think they’re here for me, don’t you?” 

“Or here for me and Cassandra.” 

Horace’s blood went cold. She was an innocent party in all of this. Out of everyone, she had played the smallest roll, despite her chagrin, in this war. It was rather obvious after spending a few minutes with her. 

“And why are you telling me and not your Rangers?” Horace asked. 

“I need you to speak frankly with me Horace. I need to understand what is going on with MacFrewin and Scotti affaires. All of this. I know you’re hiding things from me. A blind man can see it. I get that you don’t trust us and want to hold it close to your chest. But when it concerns the safety of my daughter, I need to know.” 

“Look,” Horace sighed. 

“Why would they want to kill you?” 

“Why wouldn’t they? I stand for everything this war was built around. I’m half-Araluen. I defended the Araluen soldiers. I’m now in Araluen to stop further war from breaking out. If I’m dead, that leaves McAngus without a general. And further on, if I’m found murdered on Araluen soil there is a high chance that they’ll blame you. It’s a win win for the clans, not just MacFrewin, who want to go back to war. And for MacFrewin he’d get the power that he wants.”

“I thought MacFrewin wanted Norgate back.” 

“He wants anything that’ll give him power.” 

Horace had to listen to him for a year about finally giving the Araluens what they deserved by taking back Norgate and of course his clan would be the one being to move to Norgate and control the new border, leaving the McAngus and MacArthur clan obsolete. They wouldn’t have any power left.

“Explain.” 

Horace shrugged. “For one, the territory that he has currently isn’t very good, though it is better than what he had before, and it’s in the middle of Picta. He wants new and better territory that’ll give him across to some sort of trade. If he doesn’t get territory then he’ll get attention. Martyrdom. More Warlords will look up to him. He’ll have influence over others. I don’t think he actually cares if he wins or not.” 

The king groaned and rubbed his forehead. “So there’s nothing we can do?” He asked. 

“We do the same?” Horace scratched his neck. “We sway clan members to our side? I don’t know. Shouldn’t this be a questions for the Rangers. Isn’t this what they’re supposed to do? My strategy would hit him with a sword until he falls over but I don’t think it’ll work this time.” 

“Yes, it would probably be a Ranger thing. I’m sorry for bursting in on you like this.” “I get it. Your daughter is important to you and you’d do anything to stop her from getting hurt.” 

“You sound like you speak from experience. You have a child?” 

“No. No.” Horace scoffed, shaking his head. “Not yet.” 

“Yet?” 

“I do, and there was someone, but she didn’t want to commit while I was gone.” Horace shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “If I’m dead or at war or whatever, that’ll never happen.” 

“I thought you were here because of your duty to your clan?” The king looked a little bemused. 

“Duty comes first, then personal enjoyment.” 

“Right.” The king didn’t look like he quite believe Horace. “I should go. I’ll send a message, when everything is set up. Take it easy and could…could you look out for Cassandra? I know you two are friends.” 

Were friends. They were friends. But Horace wasn’t going to tell her father that. “I’ll do that.” 

“Thank you. Take care, Horace.” The king gently patted Horace on the shoulder as he passed by and closed the door. That was strange.   
***  
Horace felt bad for leaving the castle after the king dropped that bombshell on him, but he needed to get away. He needed to be able to breath without breathing in dust and hearing people move around him. 

The woods near the castle weren’t as dense as the woods back home, not having that same murderous quality to them as the Shal Woods, but they were great. It was great mostly because Horace could breath in the fresh air and relax. 

“You look happier.” Will pulled up next to Horace on Tug. 

Horace patted Kicker’s side, Kicker snorted and shook his head, and smiled. “Yeah, well I finally don’t have a million prying eyes on me. Just yours.” 

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Will mused. 

“Don’t. I’m not stupid. I know that I’m your assignment even though we might be friends.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong but I still want to be friends. Aren’t we working towards the same goal?” 

“For the time being but I wouldn’t put it past you to shoot me if you needed to and honestly, I wouldn’t care. Well I mean, it would suck but I would understand.” 

“I for one hope that it’ll never come to that. It’d suck.” Will scanned the surrounding trees. 

“Yeah, same. I don’t want it to come to that.” Horace shook his head. “Up here’s good, it’s pretty far away from the castle. Doubt that anyone would come out this far, especially the castle folk.” 

Will cackled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they’re not big fans of the forest.” 

They slowed to a stop and Horace got off of Kicker and lead him over to the small stream. The campsite was small but overlooked the small river. It felt cozy. 

“Right. Let’s set up. I’m hungry.”   
***  
Night came fast and soon Horace and Will had set up a small crackling fire and Horace sat back as Will started on dinner. Before night had come Will had put up traps and caught two rabbits.   
Horace set out to skin the rabbits as Will, who had shed his normal cloak, started up making the rest of the stew. They worked in silence but not an awkward silence but it a comfortable silence. Neither of them had much to say as dinner was cooking. 

“You know, I don’t remember the last time I went camping without the stress of fighting. Forgotten how peaceful it can be.” Horace passed the rabbits over to Will who had the stew going. It smelled amazing. Horace’s stomach rumbled a little. 

“I think the last time that happened for me was back in my first year of apprentice.” 

“Shame. There’s something beautiful about spending the day in the wilderness without a care in the world.” Horace settled against a tree stump and poked the fire with a stick. 

“Except you have many cares.” Will rose an eyebrow at Horace. 

“Are you trying to get me to confess what’s going on?” Horace matched the look and accepted the cup of tea that Will held out. While Horace had grown attached to drink coffee, it was too late for it. 

“Well a little. I’m not going to report to Crowley, it’s just no one’s speaking to me. I know something’s going on.” Will scowled at the fire. The dark circles around his eyes were heavily pronounced by the bright light of the fire. 

Without his cloak on, Will seemed so much smaller than Horace realized. All the rangers were smaller than him, except Gilan, Horace now realized. 

Horace sighed and tipped back the tea. “You’re not going to want to hear this.” 

“Try me. At fifteen I had to deal with Morgarth, then being captured by Skandians, slavery, then the Temujai. This war? As terrible as it has been, it hasn’t held up a candle to those years.” Will looked a little haunted. Cassandra had the same look when she talked about her time in Skandia. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Horace put down the mug and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Will chuckled, albeit little darkly, but that hollowed look lessened. “Don’t worry about it. What’s going on?” 

“The king, ever so graciously, paid me a visit to tell me that there was a group of Scotti warriors that broke through the border and disappeared. He thinks they’re coming to kill me or him or him and Cassandra. So that’s fun.” 

“Shit.” Will bit the inside of his cheek while digesting the information. 

“Yeah, it’s fun. Is dinner done?” Horace didn’t want to think about it, though he should. Those assassins could be here in the woods with them. 

“Yeah, here.” Will passed Horace a wooden bowl. “Who do you think they’re after?” 

“Me, probably. Killing the king and the princess would just ensure complete destruction of any Scotti clan. If it’s just me then the war won’t be as bad. Also McAngus would be more likely to declare war, and they’d be the ones who probably face the brunt of the war since they’re the aggressors.” 

When they got back, Horace really should write to McKentick or McAngus and tell them that if he was to die not to go to war over his death. His death wasn’t worth it. 

Will nodded and scratched his cheek before eating some stew. 

“The king said that he’d get Rangers on the case and then have a meeting when there’s something to be discussed. There’s nothing we can do currently but keep one eye open. We have no idea where they are. I know that after he told me, that I should have stayed in the castle but I just needed to get out. Sorry.” 

“No it’s fine. The castle isn’t an impenetrable fortress, they would have gotten in. You're probably safer here than in the castle. I mean, the castle’s going to be open in a few days anyways.” Will bite on the edge of his spoon while in thought.

“What do you mean?” 

“There’s going to be a ball, forget what the reason is for but it happens every year. Alyss wanted to go with me but you know. Duty calls and all.” Will made a face and then shovelled more food in. 

“You can’t take the night off?” 

  
Will scoffed. “I could but,” he trailed off for a second, considering what to tell Horace. “Rangers, we’re supposed to maintain an air of mystery. Me attending a ball with Alyss would ruin the rumour that we do black magic or something along those lines.” 

Horace couldn’t avoid choking on his food in surprise. He would never admit it, but he’d thought that too. 

Unfortunately, Will seemed to notice. He giggled slightly at Horace’s trapped animal look. “Don’t tell me that you believed that too?” 

Horace cleared his throat and sat up. “Potentially. I’m not going to deny it but Scotti, we’re superstitious considering everything goes on our lives. My father, he didn’t think like that and tried to teach me. But how you Rangers move in out of the trees like that, I-I can’t help but believe those things.” 

Will nodded slowly, looking over to his cloak and then back to Horace. “You hunt, right?” 

“Yeah?” Horace wasn’t sure where Will was going with this.

“When you hunt, you stand still to not alert your prey right?”

“Yes?” 

Will gestured to the cloak. “Rangers do the same. We stay in one spot and the pattern on the cloak helps break up solid colours to help us blend in together. No magic.” 

Horace didn’t quite believe him. They were just too quiet and disappeared into the woods too quickly but what Will was saying did make some sense. It wasn't worth it to continue fighting about this. “Sure. Whatever you say, man.” 

Will still looked amused that Horace didn’t believe him. 

Horace didn’t bother to say anything else. He went back to scarfing down his stew, then giving himself seconds. He was hungry. One of the things that he missed the most from home was the cooking. Non married soldiers usually had communal dinners together. Horace missed that atmosphere. Plus Isla’s mom’s cooking. Her cooking was the best. 

“What’s a ball?” Horace asked. Will choked on a piece of rabbit. Horace winced as Will coughed, trying to dislodge the hunk of meat. Horace reached over and thumped Will on the back. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Will managed to wheeze out. “Just wasn’t expecting that. You don’t know what a ball is?” 

“No?” 

“They’re a big fancy party with a lot of dancing. It’s only for the nobles. Lots of music, alcohol, and flaunting wealth.” 

“Sounds like most Fiveday nights back home. Except the wealth part.” It didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Except maybe for the wealth part. He didn’t want to deal with snobby attitudes. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, well. See the thing is, it’s a tradition to have a communal dinner, usually on a specific day. After dinner there’s dancing because most adults are a little drunk and want to have a fun time. As the night get longer, more people get drunk and sometimes there’s fistfights. That doesn’t always happen though.” Horace smiled at the memories. 

When he was little, he so desperately wanted to stay with McKentick and all of the older men to show that he was an adult. Isla’s mom didn’t approve of Horace’s plans and would drag him home with her. After Horace and Isla started dating, Horace didn’t mind spending the night. Isla would sneak into his bed after her mom went to bed. He wasn’t sure if she ever knew that happened. 

The first Fiveday that he was here in Araluen, Horace drank himself to point where he didn’t remember what he did that night. He probably didn’t do anything because he had nothing to do. 

“They sound like fun. There won’t be any fistfights. The people who goes too balls are much too stuffy to do that.” Will shook his head but looked amused at the idea. 

That would be kind of funny to see those stuffy men and women in those fancy and stiff looking dresses and suits fight each other. 

Horace finished his strew and put down the bowl and picked up his tea when he thought of something horrible. “I don’t have to go to this, do I?” 

“Probably not?” Will shrugged. “But it would be smart to go to it? If you really want the higher ups to see the Scotti as people instead of the enemy, it wouldn’t hurt to rub elbows with them.” Horace made a face at that. “And if there are assassins coming, would help to be around Cass if she’s the target. I know I might be overstepping my bounds but if you cared about her, you’d be there to protect her.” 

Will was right. Cassandra and the king were in danger and while they had guards in the castle at all times, it would be beneficial to the royal family to have someone within the guest list to be there protecting them. 

“Where are you going to be?” 

“Where ever Crowley sends me, we shall see.” Will shrugged and gave Horace a dopey grin. “If the threat is real, I’ll be somewhere near the main banquet hall. If there’s a commotion, I’ll come running.” 

“Let’s hope that doesn’t come to that.” Horace shook his head. 

“Yeah.” Will sighed. He perked up slightly. “Let’s not talk about work, man. I never get a break from it. I’m wasting the one time I do have a break talking about work.” 

“Yes sir.” Horace shrugged. He racked his brains, trying to come up with a neutral topic. “What was it like growing up in Redmont? You had to have more friends than just Alyss.”

That got Will excited. He shot up and in the dim light Horace could see his eyes gleaming. Horace settled down in his spot, preparing himself to be in this position for a long while. Will looked like he was going to launch into a couple hours of speech. 

“So I grew up in the Ward that Baron Arald set up for orphans who lost their parents in the war against Morgarth. There was me, Alyss, Jenny and George. I might have mentioned them before. George is now a scribe, they write out all treaties and laws and make them and stuff like that, Jenny became a cook. She originally worked in Redmont Castle’s kitchen but then decided later on that she was going to make her own restaurant. Man, you have not lived until you had her cooking. It’s glorious. It’s even better than her old mentor’s cooking and I used to sneak into his kitchens to sneak food. Got caught several times. Didn’t always end well.” Will rubbed the top of his head and smiled ruefully. “I miss them.” 

“They sound like great people.”   
  
“They are. I wouldn’t who I am without them. I think Jenny’s coming out to help with catering for the ball. I hope she does, it’ll be fun to reconnect. I wonder what George is doing.”

“Probably writing things.” 

Will threw a pebble at Horace. Horace cackled and ducked. “What I’m trying to say is if I’m wondering if he has confessed to the hunk from Battleschool that he had a crush on for like ever.” 

“Says the one who I literally had to push to confess to his crush.” 

“I never said I was better!” Will defended himself. 

“Speaking of which, how are things with Alyss?” Horace hasn’t heard hide nor hair of the couple or any troubles with them. 

“Good. Good. We’re, um, taking things slow. We have no idea what we’re doing but we’re trying to work it out.” Will chuckled awkwardly, his face flushed with embarrassment. Horace didn’t really want to know what they had no idea about but had a general idea. 

“That’s good.” Horace had no idea where to go from there. 

“Cora’s still mad at you?” 

Horace couldn’t get her blazing anger out of his mind. He deserved it, no lie, but it didn’t make it easier. Last he saw her, when he was leading Kicker out of his stall before they left, she had pointedly ignored him after sending him a scathing look. 

“Yeah. I don’t blame her.” 

Will looked a little conflicted with the whole situation. “Are you guys going to continue to not speak or what?” He asked. 

“Me and Cora or me and the princess?” 

“Both?” 

“I have no idea. I don’t want to.” Horace started into the fire, clutching his mug. “Cora means a lot to me. And the princess, she’s something. She’s pretty amazing, you know?” 

Their interactions had been limited but Horace couldn’t help but smile most of the time when she sassed him back. He liked when someone challenged him. It made life exciting. And the princess, she seemed genuine, true to her emotions. Both the positive and the negative. Horace didn’t like having to do emotional dances with people. She was blunt and to the point. 

“I would say it sounds like a crush but you already knew that. What was it that Cora called you? A self-sacrificing idiot?” 

“Something along the lines,” Horace murmured. 

“Gotta say I agree.”

“Yeah well. I would be heading into dangerous waters if I were to court her.” 

“Take the politics out of it. Would you still do it? Or would you go back to Isla?” Will asked, his eyes unflinchingly staring at him. 

Would Horace? The part of him that still clung onto the past, before the war and his life got overturned, would say no. He’d hold out for him and Isla. But the longer Horace was away from her the less he could actually see them rekindling their romantic relationship. She’d always be a part of his life. just not as a girlfriend. 

The princess, she was wild and unpredictable and Horace felt drawn into her whirlwind. It was new and exciting. 

“I don’t even know if Isla is still single. It’s been more than a year Will. She’s not one to sit and wait. I’m not going to make decisions based around what ifs.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“It’s an I don’t know. The princess, she.” Horace struggled to get out the words. “She shouldn’t settle for someone like me.” 

“A courageous idiot who’s self sacrificing and put everyone’s feeling before his because he’s dumb?” Will batted his eyes in a very innocent fashion while smiling at Horace. 

“Ouch,” Horace said dryly while raising an eyebrow at Will. 

“I just speak the facts as I see them.” Will shrugged, the smile slipping from his face a little. 

“She deserves someone whose attention is fully on her. Someone who’s not constantly against her in terms of almost everything. I like her enough to realize that we’d never work out and it’ll just end poorly.” 

“Are you really will let your happiness be decided on a hunch?” 

While this hunch wasn’t going to put Horace in an awkward position between protecting his clan and not hurting the princess. Horace slouched in his seat and stared at the fire, trying to avoid looking Will in the eyes. 

“Dude. You gotta look out for yourself. It’s not healthy to do everything for the service of someone else and not yourself.” 

Why couldn’t people accept Horace’s decisions? He knew himself better than all of these people. The only people could potentially know him better than himself would be Isla and McKentick. Maybe. 

He stood up and tossed the dregs of his tea on the ground. “I’m going to go bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Night, man.” Will looked a little upset but Horace ignored him. 

He went to check up on Kicker before turning in. Kicker let out a soft little snort when Horace approached him. “Just checking in on you buddy. Good night.” Horace patted Kicker’s side and then headed into his tent. 

Will didn’t say anything to Horace as he slid into his tent and wrapped himself up in his sleeping roll. He didn’t like going to bed angry but he was just so done. He was so lost and alone, just trying to survive this hell place. If he lost any of his footing, he’d lose his home. 

Cassandra didn’t deserve to be pulled into his turbulent world. She’s already been through enough. Losing her mother, being forced to be a slave, having the eyes of the world on her. He just wanted her to be happy. It pained Horace to even think about it, but he didn’t fit into that equation. 

Horace rolled onto his back and stared at the dark tent ceiling. 

He hated his life. 


	9. Chapter 9

Horace was gone. He had vanished. Being a glutton for punishment, Cassandra went down to his rooms, to do what? She didn’t know, she just missed him. But he didn’t answer her. And being the idiot she was, she went looking for him. She couldn’t find him anywhere. 

Even his horse was gone. 

So Cassandra did what any sane person would do and freaked the fuck out, in the safety of her room. 

“Where the fuck did he go? Did he leave? Did he get to go home?” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth in front of a unbothered Cora and a lost looking Alyss. She picked at cushion that she was embroidering. “If he did, why didn’t anyone tell me? It would have been nice to be able to say goodbye.” 

Cora sighed, clearly annoyed, and looked over to Alyss. They had a silent conversation, which just ended with Cora looking even more annoyed. She huffed and pulled at a thread, scowling at the cushion. 

What’s her problem? 

She’s been extra sour recently. This whole Horace debacle effected her a lot worse than Cassandra.

“Cassie, Horace didn’t go home. He just went camping with Will. They should be back in a couple of days. Will just mentioned that Horace felt a little cooped up in here. Everything’s fine.” 

“Why are you so worked up about him? It’s not like he broke your heart or anything,” Cora mumbled, yanking aggressively on the threat. 

“Ok, what’s your problem? You’re taking this way harder than I am and I’m the one who got her heart broken!” Cassandra gestured wildly to herself. 

“Because he’s an idiot!” Cora snapped. “He could have everything and yet he threw it away! Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. He has no idea how lucky he was. Idiot!” She stood up, throwing her embroidery to the floor and stormed out of the room. 

Cassandra looked over to Alyss who was equally as puzzled. “Um, is she okay?” Cassandra pointed to the door. 

Alyss shrugged elegantly. She and Cora weren’t super close. Actually, Cassandra wasn’t sure if Cora really had friends at all. The only person that Cassandra has seen Cora spend time with was Horace. “I’m not sure. I mean probably not considering her outburst.” 

Cassandra groaned and collapsed onto the couch. “I don’t understand her.” 

“What I don’t understand why you’re upset about Horace. Didn’t you say that you didn’t care about him anymore. ‘No more Horace’ and that bullshit.” Alyss gently picked up Cora’s fallen pillow and put it on a table. 

“I know.” Cassandra cuddled a pillow and pouted at the ceiling. “Now that I have clarity and a couple of days to think about it and maybe he was right. He was just looking out for the both of us. I can barely think of any future that doesn’t end in heartbreak.” 

That was a lie. She was not over Horace. She still wanted to kiss him until they collapsed and watched him laugh in the fading sunlight. But she wasn’t going to tell Alyss. She was going to take the high road, spend time with him and pretend to be okay and not dying on the inside. And she was going to do this with a smile on her face so that no-one was none the wiser. 

That being said, Alyss didn’t look like she was believing what Cassandra was trying to feed her. Alyss shook her head and gently folded her hands. “Cassie, while I see his point of view, wouldn’t it be detrimental to your health to continue doing this?” 

“I mean, probably.” Cassandra shrugged, still not looking away from the ceiling. She didn’t care. “But we’re friends. And he’s fun. I like spending time with him and learning about Scotti traditions. I mean you were legit breaking up on the inside when you were not with Will. Don’t lie to me and don’t judge me.” 

“Okay true, but he hadn’t rejected me like Horace did.” 

Cassandra sat up and squinted at Alyss. Will still had rejected her. Maybe it wasn’t straight up like Horace had, which Cassandra was glad he did it bluntly instead of dancing around the subject, but after Will had freed Alyss from Mainclaw and she had confessed her love, he had sort of brushed it off. Cassandra had thought that he just didn’t understand what Altss was saying and she needed to be clearer but ever the diplomat, Alyss had just brushed it off and pretended everything was okay. 

“Really, Alyss? Really?” 

Alyss squirmed a little in her seat. “Alright, you win this one.” 

Cassandra didn’t feel like she’d won. There was this sad pit in her stomach that she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried. 

She sighed and tossed the pillow over to the side. “I should probably go and check on the progress of the set-up for the ball.” Of course Cassandra was the one who had to set up for the ball because no one else could handle it. It wasn’t like she was trying to help her father settle a treaty with the Scotti. No. 

Sure, they were fun to coordinate sometimes and she liked to see everything go off without a hitch, but she had better and more important things to do currently. 

“Do you want some company?” Alyss asked. 

“Sure. Why not.” Cassandra shrugged. She wasn’t going to be there that long. Her heart wasn’t really in this time, and she just didn’t have the energy currently. She closed the door behind Alyss and they set up to the banquet hall. At least this ball didn’t have, like, a certain theme. Those were the most painful to organize. 

They didn’t talk much on their way down. Alyss was a quiet person naturally, not really feeling the need to chatter, and Cassandra, who felt the need to chatter when she was nervous which was almost always, was a bad at starting conversations so they were quiet. 

First, they headed to the kitchen to make sure that the catering, Sam had been over the moon when Cassandra had asked him if she could invite Jenny over to help with the cooking. Apparently he wanted to see her expertise in person and see if he could learn a few things from her. 

“Alyss!” Jenny came cantering towards them, holding her hands out for a hug. 

“Jenny! How are you?” Alyss tackled Jenny into a hug. 

Cassandra looked away from them, as she felt weird like she was intruding which she was, and shifted from foot to foot as they caught up. 

“How’s the restaurant? I’m so sorry that I haven’t been back recently.” Alyss held Jenny at arms length and looked her up and down. “You look wonderful.” 

“Aw thank you! Don’t worry about it. You’ve been busy with your job and everything. Trust me, I get it. This is the first time I’ve been away from the restaurant since it opened and here I am, doing more cooking. But the restaurant is doing great. Business is booming and all that jargon. Halt and Pauline are regular fixtures in the table in the back.” Jenny was a very chatty person and unlike Cassandra, she had no trouble drumming up conversation. 

“Redmont’s okay? Nothing crazy going on?” 

Jenny waved a hand. “For once, that I can tell, it’s a quiet as talkative fish. The only sense of trouble is Lord Altman but he’s always been like that. The Baron and Sir. Rodney come in from time to time and I’ve hear them complain about him. Being a pompous ass and all.” 

Cassandra did not really like Lord Altman that much. He made her feel uncomfortable with those eyes that never looked away from her. It was like he was trying to devour her with just his eyes. It always raised her hackles. 

Whenever he attended these sorts of events, Cassandra always stuck close to her father or a lady-in-waiting for safety. She was not going to be alone when he was in a room with her. 

“Speak of the devil,” Jenny coughed into her hand. 

Cassandra looked over her shoulder and her stomach plummeted. 

She recognized his pale blonde hair that remaindered her too much of Morgarth and leering eyes which were locked and loaded on her. 

She wanted to hurl but she didn’t. She some how managed a tight smile at the older man. “Lord Altman, I didn’t know that you were attending the ball tomorrow night.” 

“And pass up the chance to see your beauty? Nonsense.” He gripped her wrist and planted a sloppy kiss on her hand. 

Cassandra shared a grimace with Alyss and Jenny. No one really kissed her hand anymore, its was outdated practice and it generally made her uncomfortable. The only other person who kissed her hand was Horace. At least when he did it, it was more tender, like he actually meant the greeting and he only loosely held onto her hand. Lord Altman gripped her wrist so hard that sometimes it left bruises. It felt like he did it so he could manhandle her. 

“Right.” Cassandra pulled her hands away and hid them behind her back. “Well, I'm terribly sorry but I am a little busy currently and have to get going.” 

Please let this be the end of this. 

Lord Altman looked a little offended. Great. Cassandra was going to be here for a while listening to him complained. “Isn’t it the hostess’ job to make sure that her guests are comfortable in her home? It would be rather rude. I would have thought that your father would have taught you better manners.” 

Cassandra gritted her teeth but plastered on a sunny smile. “While this is true Lord Altman, I am also the organizer for the event that is causing you to travel to my home and you are not the only guest here. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And I do not appreciate you insulting my father, the king, like that.” 

Lord Altman’s face soured. He straightened up. “Well, he will gain my respect when he finally marries you off. Araluen needs to be strong if we are to conquer those savages in the north. An unwed daughter makes a weak house.” 

“Lord Altman, I’m not sure that if you’ve heard but the war against the Scotti has ended. There is peace between all. There is no fighting anymore,” Alyss smoothly interjected as she could see Cassandra was getting close to snapping at Lord Altman.

Lord Altman sniffled, snapping up rod straight and looked down at Alyss. “You’re young and still rather gullible, Courier, so I will grant you this one mishap. If you honestly think that those savages will remain still for long is hilarious. They just seek the bloodshed of innocent Araluens. It’s best to nip it in the bud.” 

“Lord Altman, I don’t know who filled you with the belief that eradicating an entire culture of people was a good thing but I am absolutely disgusted that you would even think of that course of action,” Cassandra snarled. 

He looked like he was going to argue with Cassandra but he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Everyone looked over to noise. Standing half in the shadows was Halt, glaring at Lord Altman. 

“What do you want, Ranger?” Lord Altman spat. “I am in the middle of a conversation with the princess.” 

Unfortunately Lord Altman was not one of those many people who were afraid of Rangers. Shame. 

“I can see,” Halt said dryly. “I am here to collect the princess and the Courier Mainwright for a meeting that the king himself called. I am sure that you do not want to anger him.” 

Lord Altman didn’t even response to Halt. He just huffed and stormed off. Behind his back, Cassandra rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. She hated men like him. 

Halt watched him go with contempt deep in his eyes. “Never liked that man.” He shook his head and turned back to the trio. “Sorry to drag your friends away, Jenny, but the king really does wish to speak you two.” 

“It’s alright. Sam and I have time catching up to do.” Jenny waved them off. “Have fun!” 

Right. A meeting with her father wasn’t going to be fun. Especially since Halt was called from Redmont for it. Cassandra wandered over to Halt as Alyss bid adieu to Jenny. 

“Are you okay?” Halt looked Cassandra up and down. 

Cassandra stuck her hands under her arms and nodded. “He just makes me uncomfortable. I’m fine. What makes you not like him?” She asked as they started climbing the stairs to her father’s study. 

Halt fiddled with his cloak. “His older brother disappeared over twenty years ago. Officially there is no evidence that suggested that he killed his brother but it is rather suspicious that it happened after the death of their parents died. The family ring disappeared with the brother which he continues to lament about.” Halt rolled his eyes. 

Cassandra shared a look with Alyss. Who did they know who had the same last name as Lord Altman, had a ring that was Araluen in design, and had a father who left Araluen because of his younger brother? It was way too coincidental.

Should Cassandra bring this up to Halt? Cassandra gestured to Halt’s back with her head and Alyss shook her head. Why not? Lord Altman needed to be knocked down a couple of pegs. She’d much rather have Horace as the Lord Altman than the current one. 

“Always wondered what happened to his brother. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Whatever it was.” 

While the subject matter was a dark, it was a little amusing to hear Halt start to ramble a little like most old men would. 

“What’s the meeting about, Halt?” Alyss asked gently. 

“It’s best if Duncan explains it to you two.” Halt deflected. He was one of the only ones who got to call Dad by his first name instead of his title. 

“Is this about Horace?” Cassandra asked. It probably had to be because, why else would Halt be here? 

Halt didn’t answer but pushed open the door to her father’s office. Cassandra rolled her eyes and looked over to Alyss who looked equally annoyed and mystified at Halt’s response. 

Waiting for them was Crowley, her father, and Pauline. Cassandra wasn’t sure why Pauline was there. She wasn’t very close to the woman but respected her greatly because she’d opened the way for women like Cassandra and Alyss and all the other lady couriers. But her job didn’t deal much with the small nitty gritty bumps in the road but with ambassadors and shit. Though, with the ball coming there were going to be ambassadors from other kingdoms to be here. Pauline probably just tagged along with Halt. 

“So what’s this about?” Cassandra collapsed into a chair as Alyss crossed the room to embrace her mentor. 

Dad sighed and looked to the door. “I did want to speak to all of you at once but it seemed that our esteemed general and Will has vanished.” He shook his head tiredly. 

“It seemed like the best option your majesty. Horace seemed to be getting antsy being cooped up. It’s not good to keep him locked up. The woods will allow him some time to unwind.” 

“Yes, I understand Crowley, but I do need him here to speak about this.”   
“Speak about what?” Cassandra groaned, dropping her head back. Could he just cut to the chase? 

The door opened to dad’s study and everyone looked over to the entrance. Both Will and Horace shuffled in, looking a little bashful and like they just got off of their horses. Their clothes were rumpled and a little dirty. Horace’s hair looked deliciously windswept.

Cassandra had to resist the urge to run her hands through his dark hair. 

“Sorry for being late, your majesty. We heard that you wanted to speak with us.” Will grinned nervously at dad and half attempted to tame his windswept curls. 

There was no way that dad could be angry at Will, he was just so annoyingly lovable. It was hard to be mad at Will to be honest, much to Cassandra’s chagrin sometimes. 

“It’s alright Will. You’re here, that’s what important. I assume Horace updated you on the situation?” Dad looked over to Horace, who seemed to retreat more into his shell probably because he was around rangers, and Horace gave dad a nervous smile. 

“Yes sir.” Will moved over to where Alyss, Halt, Pauline were standing. Horace lingered around Cassandra. He gave her a small little smile that she couldn’t help but return. His smile grew a little more. 

Cassandra turned back to her father. “Now that everyone’s here, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” She asked. Alyss nodded in agreement. In the shadowy back corner, where Crowley loved to hang for some odd reason, he looked a little haunted. 

“Have you found them?” Horace asked, crossing his arms and leaning against a table.

Dad looked queasy. Judging how Horace’s face fell a little, it was confirmed. Who? Cassandra had no idea. 

Dad sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “There’s a small party of Scotti warriors that disappeared into Araluen. They’ve been spotted at the edge of Araluen fief. I’ve spoken with Horace and we both agree that they’re out for an assassination. Whose? We have no idea.”

“It’s probably me. Killing the king or the princess would just ensure annihilation for all Scotti and which ever Warlords sent them would probably end up dead and that wouldn’t help their path for power,” Horace interjected. 

“Fun,” Alyss muttered, then going a little red when everyone chuckled a little. 

“So what do we do? If the would be assassins have been spotted, can’t we just send a Ranger out to meet them? Have it done and over with.” Cassandra asked. 

Halt and Crowley exchanged looks with each other and had a silent conversation. “No.” Halt shook his head. “With the war officially over, Scotti are allowed to come into Araluen. If we take out the party now with no evidence then there could be hell to pay.” 

“I agree. If you guys end up killing them or whatever you want to do, one of the warmongering Warlords will seize on the opportunity, saying that Araluen is prejudice against Scotti, which will rile up other Warlords even more.” 

Cassandra sighed, Horace was right. She needed to stop jumping the gun. 

“So what do we do?” Pauline asked. 

“It’s hard to let them roam through Araluen given their supposed intentions.” Alyss shared a concerned look with her mentor. 

“To me, which … I know my methods are different from you guys, but the best option is for them to come to us. Show that they want to cause trouble so that we have reason to attack them. Depending on the circumstances, we could bring this to a Warlord on our side and see if they could help us. But I don’t want to put anyone in danger. If I knew for certain that if I were the target, I’d say go for it but….” Horace looked over to Cassandra. 

She tried to ignore his obvious concerned eyes and that feeling that bloomed in her stomach. Which she knew that already but it still made her feel happy. 

Halt’s face was thunderous as he considered options. Will had a similar look on his face. “I don’t see many other options. We might have to do Horace’s plan.” 

“I don’t like this plan. It puts Cassandra in danger,” Dad argued. 

“I can defend myself, Dad!” Cassandra argued. “Besides. It’s nothing new. There are people trying to kill us constantly. You admitted that yourself recently.” 

“It’s different! I am willingly putting you in danger. I’m not doing this?”   
Cassandra groaned and flopped onto the chair more. She put her face in her hands. This was stupid! There wasn’t any other answers to this problem. She was going to be surrounded by guards and ranger’s and worst comes to worst, she pulls out her sling and slugs the guys.

“If anything, Horace is the main target. To the eyes of the Scotti, I think that they see him here as betrayal and want him dead more than wanting you and your daughter dead, your majesty,” Crowley interjected. 

Everyone looked over to Horace. He shrugged. “Yeah, probably. There are some in Picta who see my actions as breaking my oath.” He tried to pass it off like it was no big deal but Cassandra see that it haunted him. 

“So what, we just sit around and wait for them to show up?” Dad sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Will and I can go out and track them so if they try to attack, we’ll be right behind them.” Halt gestured too Will who was standing nesting him. 

“Be careful. If these men spent time fighting in the war, they might be able to sense you. I was able to,” Horace warned them. Had he? That was terrifying. Rangers were suppose to be like ghosts, traveling through the dark, invisible. What sort of training had Horace gone through to be able to pierce through the veil? 

“We’ll hang back but close enough to keep an eye on them. Don’t worry, Horace.” There was that grim confidence in Halt’s dark eyes that unsettled Cassandra no matter how long she’s known him. 

“That helps a little but there’s still too much that’s up in the air. I don’t want to look over my shoulder for the rest of time over this.”

“What I wish to know is what they might think is the most opportune time to attack. Would you have any idea, General?” Pauline asked Horace. 

“No need to call me General, ma’am. I’m no general here.” Horace shook his head. 

“Alright then, Horace.” Pauline gave Horace a reassuring smile. It didn’t seem to make him feel at home. He still looked tightly wound up. “Do you have any ideas?” 

“The ball most likely. Guards will be down and they’ll have an easier time getting into the castle.” 

“But won’t all eyes be on them if they attack in the middle of the ball? Survival chances would seem pretty low?” Alyss asked. 

Horace snorted and shook his head. “They don’t care about that. If they die taking me or whoever their target would be, they’ll die with honour. It’s a thing back home to sacrifice yourself for the better of the clan. It’s just a thing,” he mumbled towards the end. He was cute when he was all bashful. 

“We’ll have to be on guard then,” Dad mused. “Halt, you and Will best be going if you want to catch up with the Scotti.” 

Halt nodded and looked over to Will. “Is Tug still saddled?” He asked. 

“Yeah. We didn’t bother with all of that shit.” Will blushed when he made eye contact with dad. “Sorry sir,” he mumbled. 

“I’m not a blushing virgin, Will. Now shoo,” he waved them out the door. Halt kissed Pauline goodbye and followed Will out of the door. “Crowley, have the Rangers who are stationed here double their rounds, even the retired ones. It’s all hands on deck here.” 

“Yes, sir.” Crowley disappeared through the back door. 

“Is there anything we can do, your majesty?” Alyss asked. 

“Just stay close to Cassandra and keep your eyes out. There’s nothing much else we can do.” Cassandra tried not to bristle in annoyance, she knew that he was just trying to look out for her. 

“I am going to go get settled in and then speak with Lord Anthony. I will speak to you later, your majesty.” Pauline curtsied goodbye to dad and then headed out. Alyss lingered around for Cassandra. 

“Well, I’m going to go throw things at a target. Later dad.” Cassandra kissed her dad’s cheek and headed the door, Alyss and Horace started to follow her. 

“Horace, would you mind hanging back for a couple of seconds?” Dad asked. 

Horace looked like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He schooled his face after a second. He straightened and turned around and nodded. “Of course, sir.” 

Cassandra wanted to stay and see what they were talking about but the look that dad sent her told her that this was a private conversation. Fine. Be like that. 

She linked her arm with Alyss’ and they headed out. “Ready?” 

“Of course.” Alyss sent back a wry smile. 


	10. Chapter 10

“Something wrong, sir?” Horace asked. He tried to keep his nervousness out of his voice. He really hoped that Cassandra hadn’t told her father about how he shot her down and then made her cry. That wasn’t not going to end well. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Horace. I just wanted to see how you were holding up. It’s stressful enough for me because of Cassandra being caught up in the middle of all of this. But I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.” The king’s words for once seemed to put Horace at ease. 

Truth be told, Horace didn’t feel that bad, and he’d been expecting this to happen. It was just a lot sooner than Horace expected it to happen. He figured that it would happen closer to when an actual treaty would take place. 

Horace sighed and sat in the seat that Cassandra had vacated. “I’m surprisingly calm for having my countrymen wanting to kill me.” Even though he had been expecting it, it still hurt. He was just trying to stop bloodshed. He didn’t want his people, his countrymen hurt. “I’m sorry for putting your daughter in danger, sir.” 

King Duncan shook his head, looking a little dejected. “I have to admit, this happened more often than I’d like. But after Morgarth and everything with the Skandians, I just don’t want her having to get hurt again.” 

It was horrible that the king and the princess had to deal with that. Who were such cowards to send assassins instead of facing them from face to face? 

“I get it. I won’t that happen, I swear.” 

“I know, I know. Enough about depressing topics. I deal with that on the regular. Camping was good?” 

It was strange, if being honest, to talk about such minuscule things with the king but Horace could see that the king was trying to - maybe not connect, but something along those lines with Horace. Which, again, was strange but kind. 

“It was nice to get out again. Unwind and not to deal with everything. but then again, knowing that there might be assassins after me it was hard to relax.” 

“Yes, it is difficult when that dangles over you head,” the king mused. “I assume that you’re going to ball.” 

“Will said that it would help with getting the ‘higher ups’ to see that the Scotti aren’t just the enemy. So, I’m going to go.” 

The king chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I understand your frustration. I’ve never been very enthusiastic about these sorts of things. But as the King, I have to be there. Oh to be young again and have the ability to disappear from these functions after an hour.” 

“No offence, but these things seem to be kind of stuck up. And boring.”

“Eh. They could be. I met my wife at one of them. That being said, we played hooky and went exploring. So much more fun. You guys have something similar?” 

“Something along the lines. It’s more a communal dinner with the village. After the kids leave everyone get drunk, there’s dancing and if you’re lucky enough, there are fistfights.” 

“That sounds almost exactly like our balls. Depends on who’s attending, though.” The king tapped his fingers against his mouth. Horace couldn’t help but smile at that. He shrugged but smiled. “I was just checking in on you. It’s a shitty situation that we forced onto all of you. I apologize for everything. It was ill thought out and we should have thought of something better.” 

Wow. Horace stared at his hands, trying to not cry. “I understand why you did it, sir.” 

“It still doesn’t excuse our actions. Perhaps once this brouhaha is over, we can sit down with your Warlord and think of something better,” the king offered. 

Horace’s stomach did a weird twist. He could go home. 

“A word of advice, sir: if you were to do that, send that nice courier lady, or Alyss. We tend to respond better when women approach us with solutions. Historically, men tend to jump to fighting pretty quickly. And maybe keep the Rangers to a minimum. We’re not fans of them that much.”

One like a man who could sneak up on someone and learn their inner secrets in a flash like that. 

“Duly noted, but I doubt that Halt would be too pleased at his wife being sent into a potentially hostile environment without him.” 

“He can come, but maybe not three of them.” 

“Duly noted. Now, if you don’t mind, I do have some other business.” 

“Of course sir.” Horace stood up and held out a hand. “It was a pleasure talking to you, sir.” 

“Right back at you, son.” The casualness was a little out of step but Horace didn’t mind it. The king took Horace’s hand and shook it. He gave him a little bow and then headed out to the stables to take care of Kicker, his thoughts whirling in his mind. 

He could go home. He could really go home. He could go back to men who didn’t hate him. He could be a hero instead of a despised ally. 

Horace wouldn’t have to deal with angry looks, he would be respected among his peers. 

He could go back to his cottage on the edge of town, filled to the brim with various odds ends that didn’t match, that was quiet and at night he could hear the cicadas scream. He’d be able to see the woods that he grew up in again. 

Wow.

It was all at his fingertips. 

Horace stood in front of Kicker, staring at the quiet horse.   
  
Did he want to?

He’d miss Will, Cassandra, and Alyss. He doubted that Cora would come visit that often, she had her own title here in Araluen. And just because there would be a treaty, doesn’t mean that the tensions between his countrymen and the Araluens would suddenly go away. 

There’d need to be an ambassador or something, whatever it was called. 

Horace shook his head clear of those thoughts. He could go home. This is what he wanted from the beginning. He wanted to go home. 

Kicker devoured the apple that Horace gave him as Horace pulled off of Kicker’s saddle and reigns and hung them up. He was in the middle of brushing down Kicker when he heard a peal of laughter coming from the direction of the battleschool training grounds that were being the stables. Horace couldn’t help but smile. 

He knew that laugh. 

It really was a wonderful laugh. Maybe that’s why he wanted to stay. 

“Why is life confusing, buddy?” Horace patted Kicker’s side. He didn’t answer, aside from a small snort. Thank gods.   
***  
 _Horace gripped the small bundle in his hands and stared at the door in front of him, he wasn’t sure what the best course of action. He needed to actually apologize face to face to Cassandra, but he knew that she was busy with the set-up for tonight. He’d just get in the way and she wouldn’t appreciate it. He sighed and pulled out the small note that he had written just in case._

_I know that I should apologizing in person, but I know that you’re probably running around crazy with trying to make sure that everything is okay for tonight. So I’m leaving this bundle of cookies that I managed to steal from the kitchens, I know you like them._

_Hope that you’re well and aren’t going crazy,_   
_-Horace_

He didn’t know what else to say so he tucked the note into the small bundle and placed it on the ground after knocking. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed down the hall. It wasn’t until he got to the stairwell that he looked over his shoulder to her. 

The door had opened and, with a heavy heart, Horace realized that it was that it was Alyss and not Cassandra. That would make sense that she would answer. Cassandra was way too busy to check her door, and it was probably below her rank to do so. Alyss caught Horace’s eye and gave him a bit of a smile before disappearing. 

Horace hoped that it would help his case with Cassandra. She said that she understood his motivations but he saw the tears and it was on him. It was his fault. All his fault. He needed to make up for it. 

Maybe it was good that he could go home, then he wouldn’t continue to hurt people like he was currently. At this point, he didn't care if Isla had moved on at all. He just wanted to leave.

Did he?   
  
Did he really want to leave? Sure he could go back to his little cottage on the outskirts of the town, but deep down he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he wanted to leave. Going back home - 

He wanted to stay here because he had made friends in Araluen, but he also wanted to go home. But he was right about being the best candidate. If the king did sit and talk with McAngus, there was no doubt that McAngus would probably ask Horace to work with the Araluens. He was the expendable one. 

Or was he just projecting his thoughts onto McAngus in way to justify staying here. Going back would mean that he had to face his countrymen, his leaders. It felt stupid in his mind to attack them, they had tried their best to save him from going here, but … they had betrayed him. They had sent him out here to die. 

Nothing had happened, but it was still early yet. Horace had managed to get by, by not doing anything. He stayed cooped up in his room, only leaving unless he had to go to meetings or was asked to go something with someone who had status. Horace wasn’t stupid. He knew that there’d be nobles who wanted his head on a spike half of the time, he could see the hatred in their eyes. It’s why he didn’t go out and socialize. 

He didn’t know what to do. All his life, he knew what his future was going to look like. He was going to be in the army, become a general, get married and have kids. Maybe die in battle. He knew how his life would go. Now faced with a whole new path, he didn’t know what to do. 

He could go home where it was safe and he was probably guaranteed his title. He could have a comfortable life. Or he could stay here and help work things out. There would be no guarantee, but it would make a huge difference. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

The hallways were deserted for the most part, expect for a few hurried servants that Horace no mind. 

Thank the gods. 

Horace rounded the corner and came face-to-face with a sour looking blond man. 

“Sorry,” Horace mumbled, his accent thick, and tried to move past him, but the man pushed him back and glared at him. “Can I help you?” Horace was losing patience already. He didn’t want to deal with people, he had enough going on currently. 

There was a gleam in the man’s eye that Horace felt like was going to cause him trouble. 

“Don’t speak to me like that, boy,” the man snarled, raising his hand as if to strike Horace. 

As quick as a snake, he grabbed the man’s wrist and glared at him, and then shoved him away. “Don’t try me,” Horace matched his tone. 

The man’s face coloured with anger and he spat onto the ground. “Scottis.” The venom in his voice made Horace shiver in fear. This was the type of man that he had been trying to avoid. “You all deserve to die.” 

“How original.” Horace rolled his eyes.

“I should have you beaten for speaking to a lord like that.” This man's eyes were literally bulging out of his head, he was so angry. 

Horace gripped the man’s collar and pulled him to his face. This lord had a lifetime of privilege and luxuries and was rather meek in comparison to Horace’s hard life in the north, so it was rather easy to overpower him. “Now, I may be a simple-minded Scotti, but the way I see it, is that I’m worth a lot more to the king currently, as I am the only one stopping outright war from breaking out again, and you're just a common lord. Tell me, how replaceable do you think you are?” 

That seemed to get through the lord’s mind. His eyes flickered to Horaces face and then to his hands, his eyes lingering on Horace’s ring. Horace roughly dropped the man and he stumbled back. 

“I will get you for this,” the lord threatened. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Horace crossed his arms, waiting for this snivelling mess to get out of his face. 

“And stay away from the princess. There may be a lot of things wrong with her but she doesn’t deserve to be corrupted by you.” The lord started stumbling back as Horace advanced on him. 

How did he know about Horace’s relationship with the princess? Horace had never seen him around the castle before, had he not just arrived for the ball tonight, and the only way that he would know was if he had been watching Cassandra’s door. 

“My relationship with the princess is none of your business,” Horace snapped. He was getting real close to hitting the man. He could take attacks on himself, as nothing that the lord could say that Horace hasn’t already said to himself. But the princess? That’s a different matter. She was an innocent party to all of this. This lord had no right to drag her into this. 

“We’ll see how the king thinks of this.” The lord’s voice reached a new frantic pitch.

There was uncertainty in his voice that Horace seized upon. “Yeah? If you really you think that, then why don’t you scurry your scrawny little ass over to the king and complain to him. I don’t care what you do, just get out of my fucking face.” He jabbed a finger into the lord’s shoulder hard enough for the lord to stumble back. 

Horace glared at the lord until he almost ran away. Horace didn’t move until he couldn’t see the white of the man’s doublet disappear. Great, now Horace was going to have to speak to the king about this. The king was going to be really happy that Horace was getting into fights with nobles. 

In Horace’s defence, the lord deserved it. 

Thankfully, the rest of the small trip was uneventful and Horace arrived at his small little home without anymore incidents. 

Now, all Horace had to do is wait. 

Great. 

Horace collapsed onto his bed and reached for the small book that was on his night stand. He’d never been much of a reader, mostly been too busy with training and chores to try and read, but since he’d gotten here, it had been the best way to waste time. 

Not long after he got back to his room, there was a small knock on his door. Horace sighed, putting down his book and heading over to the door. 

“Oh, hi Cora.” Horace was surprised to see her. She’s been avoiding him. “What are you doing here?” 

Cora sniffled and thrust a bundle into Horace’s hands. “The princess didn’t think that you had an appropriate costume and mask for the ball tonight. She sent me to give you this.”

Horace took the bundle without complaint. Cora sniffled again, her eyes a little red, and turned to go away. 

“Cora, wait.” Surprisingly, Cora turned around and rose an eyebrow at Horace. Horace sighed. “I know you’re still a little mad at me, but I wanted to tell you firsthand. I might be going back home.” 

Cora huffed and crossed her arms. “Might? What does this mean?” 

“It means that the king is considering sitting down with Warlord McAngus to discuss a possible treaty that doesn’t involve me being here, and I’ll have a choice if I want to go home.” Horace tried to ignore the stormy look that Cora was giving him. 

“Why would you stay? All you’ve been talking about is going home.” 

That was true. Horace spoke about going home a lot, but recently he wasn’t sure. Maybe he wanted to stay a little longer. “Well, a treaty won’t fix the situation between Araluen and Picta. There needs to be someone who can go between the two and help fix it. I’m the best candidate. I’ve been here and I’m from both Picta and Araluen. And you know, I’ll miss you and everyone. So,” Horace shrugged in lieu of finishing the sentence.

“Is this Horace-speak for saying that you want to stay here and don’t know how else to word it so you’re using this as an excuse? Or is General Altman speaking for the better of the Clan?” Cora raised her eyebrows at him. 

“I don’t know,” Horace admitted, his voice soft and his shoulders slumped. “I really don’t know.” 

Her face softened and she took a step closer to Horace. “Look, Horace, I get being conflicted between your homes but eventually you do have to make a choice. I don’t want to see Cassandra getting hurt again. She’s a good friend.” 

“I know. I don’t want to hurt her. It was a mistake, a wonderful one, and she deserves someone better. Someone who understands Araluen customs and someone respectable for someone of her status.” 

“And a general from a well respected Scotti Clan isn’t one of those?” Cora asked. 

“Maybe not now. In the future maybe.” 

Cora shook her head sadly. “Horace. Your problem is that you’re too hard on yourself. You never think that you’re good enough for what you have.” 

Horace didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re a good man, Horace. Don’t be so harsh to yourself and the world around you. You never know what you might like. I mean, you’re starting to like Araluen a little. Just keep it in mind.” 

“I will.” 

It was nice to see her smile a little. “I have to go. Someone will be here to make sure you get down to the ball in one piece. See you later Horace.” 

“See you Cora.” 

She smiled tightly again and then headed down the hallway. 

Horace closed the door behind him and went back into his room, looking at the clothing in his hands. Tonight was going to be real fun.  
***  
Horace looked at himself in the mirror, a heavily polished black mirror, and then down to the clothes on him. He felt ridiculous. The clothing was stiff and shiny. Apparently the ball was a masquerade ball, so everyone had to dress up in costume. Cassandra had apparently thought that Horace should dress as an owl. The mask itself was several different shades of white and cream had a rounded edges along the edges to resemble feathers. They eye holes were circles with a circular feather design around it and dramatic eyebrows that went off the edge of the mask. It wasn’t half bad. 

It was a lot better than the clothes he was wearing. 

He wore a purple doublet over just a plain white long sleeve shirt that was embroidered with silver to resemble feathers. His silk jerkin was made in a similar fashion but in blue and gold. At least his pants were normal black pants, but they had silver buttons up the side and were embroidered with thread - once again in the style of feathers. 

At least the princess didn’t put him through the process of wearing some of the poofy short-like pants and white tights that he’d seen some of the nobles wear. Though he was wearing boots that went up to his knees and were incredibly stiff. 

As Horace wandered into his living room, buckling a belt with a dramatic silver belt buckle, he heard a bark of laughter. Horace tensed up in shock but relaxed when he realized that it was just Will. “Fuck off,” Horace grumbled, pulling at the sleeves of his doublet. 

“You look so uncomfortable, man.” 

“That’s because I am. You have no idea how jealous I am of you, having guard duty.” 

Will smirked and flicked back his dark curls. “Perks of being a Ranger. You going to be okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

“As soon as I get some food in me and maybe some alcohol, I’ll be fine.” 

“Don’t get too drunk.” Will scrunched up his nose in amusement. “That won’t help your case.” 

“One, I’m pretty sure that Scottis are the only people that could out drink a Skandian. Two, speaking of which, I may or may not have technically assaulted a lord this afternoon.” 

“What?” Will squeaked. 

“Yeah, he was some sour looking blond guy who generally being an ass. He said some things about how the Scotti are the scum of the earth and that I needed to stay away from princess because I was a bad influence for being around her. So yeah.” Horace shrugged. 

Will groaned and thought about it for a second. “I think I know who you’re talking about and at this point, Duncan’s not going to care about it. That lord, I’m pretty sure you’re talking about him, is generally an ass.” 

“I wasn’t going to tell him to fuck off until he started talking about the princess.” 

“I would have socked him. Well, I mean, I didn’t have the best role model. Apparently while I was Celtica, Halt put a fourth year battle school student in the hospital for someone, and then promptly threw two people in a moat.” 

Horace stopped fiddling with a button on his his doublet and looked up with his eyebrows drawn. On one hand, Horace wasn’t surprised that Halt did that but on the other hand, it seemed a little excessive. 

“I know, man. Halt also threw Gilan into a stream when he was fifteen, before he became Halt’s first apprentice. He’s a bit of a violent man. A lot of fun though.” Will smiled brightly at the memories. Horace shook his head in disbelief and headed to the door as he heard a small knock on his door. 

“Hey Alyss,” Horace said, when he recognized the tall and slender figure. She was dressed in a pale pastel pink and white dress with pastel flowers sewn up and down the dress. Sections of lace decorated her corset and edges of her dress.

“Hi Horace. Hello Will.” Alyss waved to Will and pulled off her lace mask, letting down her extravagantly braided hair with flowers also placed in it. 

“You look wonderful.” Will literally had hearts in his eyes. 

“Thank you.” Alyss blushed and swished her dress, the heavy fabrics moved along with her and Horace could see silver fabric rippling through her skirts. She eyed Horace, who had grabbed his mask. “You look dashing?” 

“No. Don’t try it. I hate this so much. I swear the princess is doing this to spite me.” Horace shook his head. 

“I don’t think she did that, Horace.” Alyss rolled her eyes. 

“It feels like it.” 

“Don’t mind him, Alyss honey. He’s just grumpy.” 

“Really. I couldn’t tell.” Alyss rolled her eyes at her boyfriend but kissed his forehead. Will fluttered his eyes at her. 

Horace rolled his eyes at both of them. “You two not do that in front of me? Besides, we all have to, you know, get going?” 

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Will wiggled his eyebrows. “Or should I say get to someone?” 

“No.” Horace shook his head. “But I’d like to be around the princess in case the assassins actually attack the princess or the king instead of me. Also, I want food. I’m hungry.” 

“Always thinking with your stomach,” Alyss teased. 

“I haven’t had dinner!” Horace threw his hands up in despair. Fight him! He wanted food. He couldn’t concentrate when his stomach was growling. Why weren’t they understanding this?

“Alright, let’s go then. Bye, honey.” Alyss kissed Will again and Horace had to look away. “Ready, Horace?” 

“I’ve been ready since your boyfriend started making fun of me for my outfit.” Horace rose his eyebrow to a smug looking Will. Will made face at Horace. 

“Then let’s go. Come on, boys.” Alyss shepherd them out of the room.   
  
“Adios. Have mingling with the upper crust while I’m out shivering in the cold.” Will dramatically draped himself against a wall. 

Horace shared an amused look with Alyss. “Then suffer.” Horace rolled his eyes. Will gasped and then stumbled out of view. Horace shook his head and held out his arm for Alyss. “Tell me, is he always like this?” 

“More often than not. If all else, it’s amusing. Never fails to bring a smile up.” Alyss sighed happily and took Horace’s outstretched arm, and they started off. It wasn’t until they reached the next floor that Alyss decided to speak again. “You know, she really appreciated the cookies. It was kind of you.” 

It warmed his heart a little, knowing that she liked his apology present. Horace adjusted his mask and gave her a little shrug. “It was the least I could do.” 

“Horace,” Alyss hummed softly. “Look, heartbreak is a common thing that we all go through. You’ve apologized, and she’s accepted it. It’s time to move on. If you keep on this path then it’s going to get tiresome and she’s going to be irritated. And we all know how Cassandra acts when she gets irritated.” 

“Fair point, o wise one.” 

“It’s true, and you should be saying it.” Alyss sniffed but then broke into a smile. 

Horace didn’t have a chance to come up with a snappy reply, because they came down to the ballroom. It was massively packed. Explosions of colour littered Horace’s mind and it took him a couple of seconds to adjust to it. Music and laughter enveloped him. 

It was a familiar feeling. Sure he might be wearing stupid clothing that he kind of hated, but the feeling of a hot and sweaty packed room was something deeply familiar to Horace. Even though he was surrounded by glitter and gold and dresses that were worth more than Horace’s whole house, he relaxed. He felt like he was back in his element. 

The dance floor was packed already with swirling dresses and lights twinkling through the gaps of the dancing figures. Music slammed into Horace the second he stepped in. 

Masked eyes flickered over to Horace when he first stepped into the room. It was a little unnerving, not being able to see people’s faces. Not that he’d recognize anyone without their masks anyways. 

Horace’s eyes flickered around the room, his eyes landing on the giant crystal chandelier and swore softly to himself. It was massive. The gold that lined the windows glimmered in the light caused the room to light up even more. It also made for more shadows for Rangers or assassins to hide in. Horace frowned and started looking for the princess. 

He didn’t know what she was wearing and couldn’t see her through the costumes. 

That might play into their advantage. If the assassins couldn’t find out who the princess, or Horace for that matter, was, they could keep the princess and Horace away from them. But that would put innocent men and women at risk. 

“Amazing, right?” Alyss asked softly. 

“Yeah, it is.” Horace continued to look around. That being said, Horace was starting get unnerved by all of the masks. He couldn’t see people’s eyes. “Can we get food now? Seriously. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

Alyss laughed and then guided Horace to a smaller room that was off to the side, that guests were coming in and out of. 

“Are you happy now?” Alyss asked. 

Well, Horace wasn’t super pleased that the food was just dainty little finger food, but it was food nonetheless. So Horace will make do. He picked up a small potato stuffed with cheese and proceed to eat it in one bite. 

“What are you? A bear?” A low voice asked. 

Horace spun around, hand still holding the small potato to his mouth, in shock. Deep in the shadows, Horace could dimly make out Halt’s grumpy features. “Com’ on I’ h’ngry!” Horace whined. He swallowed the potato and stood up. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Leave me alone!” 

Halt rolled his eyes. Alyss just looked tiredly between the two of them. Horace took another potato. “Are you just going to eat all night?” Halt demanded. 

“No. I’m going to drink too,” Horace retorted. To prove his point, he picked up a dainty little glass of what Horace helped as alcohol and downed half of it. “Happy?” Horace retorted to a still grumpy looking Halt. 

“I’m never happy.” Halt glared at Horace. 

“You know, we Scotti have a word for that, em——” 

“Boys!” Alyss interrupted Horace. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on, well you know—” She stopped and looked around the small but crowded room. 

“Right. Anyone see the princess or the king? Because I can’t figure out who the fuck anyone is.” Horace reached for a couple of slices of a tasty looking meat. 

“They’re due to make and entrance on the dance floor in a couple of minutes,” Halt commented idly, watching Horace devour pretty much an entire loaf of bread. “Good thing that Jenny showed up to help out or else you’d be eating Sam out of his kitchen.” 

“Fuck off. I’m a growing boy.” Horace flipped Halt off. He’d never had so much access to food before. At one point, Horace had eaten so much that he threw up. But he might have been drunk at that point. 

People back home would kill for so much food. What they had was evenly distributed. They were at the mercy of the gods and the weather. It all depended if the hunters could find game and if their harvest was good that year. 

“We should probably get into the main room,” Alyss suggested. 

“Fine,” Horace mumbled. He snagged two more little cakes and a new flute of alcohol as he had finished the last one. “I’m not telling you how to do your job, but check the shadows. They might be hiding.” 

“I’ll check them again.” 

Horace nodded and ate the little cakes as he followed Alyss out of the room and this time sipped on the alcohol. He couldn’t lose his edge, he needed to be sharp. “Hey, you see Cora anywhere?” 

“No, you worried?”

Horace shrugged a little, scanning the bright multi-coloured crowd for her. “I made a promise to look out for her and this isn’t the ideal setting, knowing what might happen.” 

“Cora’s a smart girl, she won’t get in the middle of a fight.” That didn’t help Horace’s nervousness and was also a little untrue. Cora would get into the fight, trying to help them. He’d never seen her in a fight so he couldn’t judge her ability but either way, he didn’t want to see her hurt. Also her grandfather wouldn’t be pleased if Horace didn’t keep his promise. 

“Oh, there’s George!” Horace stumbled as Alyss grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a smaller guy with similar dark hair and wearing a black and gold costume with a mask that looked like a giant beak. 

“How do you know it’s him? I could barely make out you!” Horace trotted along obediently. 

“I’ve known George since we were babies. I could spot him a mile away. Hi, George!”Alyss held out her arms for a hug. The guy first pulled off his mask and then hugged Alyss. “How are you? I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“Nigel got me a job shadowing Lord Anthony and his work. So I got a last minute invitation. You look lovely.” George looked her dress up and down. “The flowers in the hair really help sell it.”   
  
“Aw thank you, it was a lot of fun to braid them in.” Alyss touched a braid.

Horace clocked out of the conversation and went back to looking around the ballroom. He couldn’t decipher anyone’s faces and it was a little frustrating. It was like going into a fight with a blindfold on. He was at a huge disadvantage. 

“So who’s this?” George asked. 

“This is, General Horace Altman. Horace, this is George.” Alyss elbowed Horace to look over to them. 

It was surpassingly painful. Horace hid a grimace behind a smile and held out a hand to George. “It’s just Horace currently.” 

“Like the General from Picta?” George asked, taking the hand nervously. 

“Yes, and I don’t bite. So don’t worry about that.” Horace smiled as George flushed red. Horace wondered if George had some Nihon-Ja heritage as his eyes and soft tan skin. 

“I didn’t think so.” George stuttered a little bit. 

“Horace, stop being mean to George,” Alyss scolded. 

“I’m not! Just yanking his chain. You’d think that growing up with Will, you’d be used to it.” 

Alyss rolled her eyes at Horace as he flashed her a bright smile. He wondered where Will was currently. Probably hiding in the rafters of this banquet hall. Lucky him. “Something wrong, George?” 

George looked up from musing over his glass. “Do you have any relation to Lord Altman?” 

“No idea.” Horace shrugged, he had suspicions but that’s about it. He finished his glass and passed it off to a passing servant and then ran a hand through his hair. It was starting to get long. He should probably cut it soon. 

“Your father or mother didn’t mention this at all?”   
  
Horace shrugged again. He didn’t have any other action to do. “I knew that my father had a brother and that’s about it. Never really cared about his past. He died as a clan member and is remembered as one. That’s all I need.” 

“Interesting,” George mused. 

“If you say so.” Horace didn’t find it interesting. In fact, he found it rather mundane but then again, they didn't really know much about Scotti culture. 

“I mean it is rather interesting, seeing how a culture views things different compared to ours.” 

“Sounds like you want to take a trip to see if first hand.” 

George paled a little at the thought and then shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s rather turbulent over there, currently is it not?” 

“There is always a bit of turbulence between different clans, not going to lie,” Horace admitted. “But depending how things settle between my clan and her sister clan and Araluen, it will be rather safe for a visit. Not to mention, there’d probably be historians and chattering grandmothers in the clan that would love to speak you.” 

George looked a rather intrigued now. “Well, I suppose that it could be feasible. There is a frustrating lack of literature on Scotti culture as a whole.” 

“Sounds like you’ve been talking Cassandra. She was complaining to us about it,” Alyss hummed. 

“Oh no. I could never talk to the princess like that.” George looked appalled at the idea. 

“George dear, if you’re going to be working with Lord Anthony, you’re going to have to learn how to talk to the royal family,” Alyss chided softly. George made a face at the idea. 

“Speak of the devils.” Horace noticed that the attitude in the crowd had changed and most people had scurried off the dance floor as the rest of the crowd parted to let two figures through. 

The king had a gold mask that covered most of his upper face with two horns poking out at the top and his outfit, made up of pretty much the same pieces that Horace, and almost every other man, was slashes of red and white. 

Cassandra, she was just decked out in gold. Her gown was a shimmering gold with gems sewn into her gown along the hems and edges. They sparkled whenever they caught the light. Her mask, like her father’s it was gold, but it had giant swirls and gems embedded in it. Was the theme, other than masquerade, gold? Or was that just a side effect that just came about because anyone who attended these events was rather well off? 

Horace, very much starting to feel out of place here, frowned to himself as he watched the king and princess do a short dance to a jaunty little tune before everyone started to clap and then join them on the dance floor. Soon the king and Cassandra disappeared from view, swallowed up by the folks around them. 

That didn’t set well with Horace. Him not being able to find Cora also unsettled him. 

There was a passing waiter with a tray of glasses of alcohol. Horace picked one up but didn’t drink it, he needed to fidget with something to calm him down and since he didn’t have his sword on him, this glass was the best thing that he could think of. 

It would also pass him off as just another party goer. 

“You okay?” Alyss whispered. 

“Can’t find them or our other party.” She didn’t look pleased with Horace. “I’ll settle when they come into view again.” 

“They won’t dance for long. Cassandra hates it and will do just enough to satisfy people and then she’ll probably go mingle for a bit.” 

That helped. Horace could catch glimpses of the princess through the crowd. 

“What are you two talking about over there?” George asked. 

“Will’s birthday present,” Horace mumbled. It was a joke. Horace had no idea when Will’s birthday was. He looked over to George who just seemed confused. “It’s a joke.” 

“Oh! Ha! That makes more sense.” George brightened up. 

Alyss looped an arm with George and pulled him close. “Look, we think that there might be a threat to the royal family’s lives. Keep your eyes out and if you see anything that seems suspicious come get us.” Horace’s eyes flickered over to George, while trying to keep a neutral expression going. George looked terrified but determined. He nodded curtly to Horace and Alyss and then just stared straight ahead, stiff as a board. 

“Relax, George. You look you’re going to pass a kidney stone,” Horace commented idly. George’s shoulder sagged and he looked defeated. “Look man, we don’t actually know if there’s going to be an attack. It’s theoretical but we don’t want to take any chances. So keep your eyes peeled but don’t go crazy.” 

George’s eyes swept around the room again. “Got it. Is this why there’s so much extra security?” 

Alyss nodded. “Yes. We’re hoping that the guards will catch them before they get into the banquet hall.”

Horace looked away from George and back to the dance floor. The song was slowly coming to a finished and he could see the king twirl his daughter one last time before the song came to a sharp and loud end. 

The group paused for dramatic effect, everyone seemed to be striking a pose and breathing heavily before tramping off the floor. 

It seemed that Cassandra, Horace still felt a little uncomfortable not calling her by her title to her face, found them as she came over. Horace spotted a small vase by his elbow filled with roses. He put down the glass that he was fiddling with and grabbed a rose for her. He left it on the railing so he wouldn’t look stupid. 

“Hey guys!” Cassandra waved at them. She paused when she looked over to George. “George, right?” 

George nodded, it seemed that fear took over him. Horace found it a little amusing. Alyss put an arm around his shoulders and smiled fondly at her old friend. “George here got a job with Lord Anthony.” 

“That’s great! Lord Anthony has been going on for ages about getting some help and I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. The perfect man for the job,” the princess praised him. 

George’s ears turned bright red. “Thank you for the compliment, your majesty,” he mumbled. 

“We’re still breaking him in,” Alyss teased George. Horace loved it when the princess did that kind of smile where her nose got all scrunched up. The rest of George’s face went red and he mumbled something about Lord Anthony and scurried off. Alyss gave Cassandra a little goodbye kiss on the cheek and hurried after her friend. 

“Children.” Horace shook his head. 

“Aw, give her a chance to unwind. She’s been busy recently,” Cassandra defended Alyss. 

Horace didn’t pursue an argument. “You look beautiful. Rose?” Horace held up the flower for her. 

She took it with her cheeks red and a small smile and a swish of her dress. Her green eyes had a mesmerizing effect on Horace. “Thank you, though I’m sure that the rose comes from the planter next to you.” Horace shuffled over to hide the planter behind him and grinned. Cassandra giggled from behind her rose. “You look handsome.” 

“Yes, well I didn’t pick this out. I do have to thank the pretty lady who picked this out for me. Not sure why she thought that purple should be my colour.” 

“Maybe she thought it went well with your dark hair.” Cassandra sniffed in faux and leaned against the wall near Horace. 

“I’m not dissing. Just neer thought that purple was my colour.”  
  
“It’s pretty!” Cassandra huffed and crossed her arms. Horace shook his head in amusement. 

They watched the crowd dance around in silence. Horace got bored and looked over to Cassandra. She was pulling at her collar and made a face. “Something wrong?” 

“I hate this dress. I have no idea how my mother managed to wear this.” She continued to tug at the collar.”

“That’s your moms?” Horace asked. It didn’t look like a dress made a couple of years ago. It looked rather new. 

“Mhm. Dad saved all of her old dresses. I got them all for my sixteenth birthday. Had someone tailer them to make it a little more modern. It’s like I’ve got a piece of her with me. I know it sounds stupid but it makes me feel better.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at the ground. 

“I get that. I always carry something of my parents with me. You’re not alone. Don’t worry.” Horace gently nudged her in support. 

“Yeah, your dad’s ring.” Cassandra sniffled and looked to Horace’s hand. 

“I also have my mom’s.” Horace pulled out the necklace from under his many layers. He stared at the golden oak leaf elegantly carved into it. It’s hard not to get overwhelmed thinking about what he could have with his parents. What his life could have been. What his sister might have been like. 

“It’s pretty.” Horace gave her a tight smile and tucked the necklace under his shirt. “What I’m trying to say, is that you’re not alone. We all do things to comfort ourselves.”

“Wow, we’re sad.” 

“Yeah.” Horace scoffed agreement, not really paying attention to her. 

He stared out in the laughing crowd, wanting to be one of them. He felt a little disconnected, watching from the outside, never really going to be one of them. 

He just wanted to escape from the world and enjoy the moment, connect with the people around him. 

“Dance with me?” Cassandra asked. 

“Hm?” Horace asked, snapping out of his daze. 

“Dance. Come on, you’ve got to know how to dance! Come on!” Cassandra grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the floor. In fact Horace did know how to dance, sort of. He wasn’t very good at it. Horace pressed his lips in a tight line, looking around the tightly packed dance floor. He swallowed tightly, pushing past the fear crawling out of his stomach. 

He looked over to Cassandra, his heart nearly kept out of his chest. They were inches away from each other. Numbly, Horace grabbed her hand and put one on her waist. He spun her around and went with the flow. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes on her. His eyes flickered to the people pushing into his space and the overbearing lights. 

“You okay?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace looked down to her and then back over to the people around him, his heart pounding his ears. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t do crowds, or confined spaces in general, very well.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Cassandra said as Horace dipped her and she came back up. 

“It’s fine.” Horace attempted to shrug while keeping in step with the other dancers. “Is everything alright? I doubt that that you chose me because of my dancing skills.” 

Her eyes flickered over his shoulder and then back to Horace. “There’s just a creepy lord that I’m trying to avoid. Don’t think that he’ll approach me with you around.” 

Horace frowned, both of his hands dropping to her waist so he could pick her up and twirl her around. As they did the small twirl, Horace’s eyes flickered over to the edge of the crowd. In the shadows was a man glaring daggers in Horace’s general direction. 

“Ah.” Horace nodded and they slipped off the dance floor as the song ended, the man disappearing from view. Cassandra visibly relaxed as she escaped the gaze of the man. “Blonde hair, looks like he sucked on a lemon, and generally has a piss-poor attitude?” 

“That’s the one.” 

“I threatened to fight him earlier. I don’t think that he’ll come near me. Want to get food?” 

“Yes please.” Cassandra sighed and pulled her mask off her face as she followed Horace to the side room with all of the food. “I’m starving.” 

Horace didn’t need to be told twice. “After you, princess.” He held out a hand for her to take. 

Cassandra giggled and took his hand and they continued into the side room together. Horace’s heart fluttered something strange. “Thank you, esteemed General, it is very kind of you.” 

Horace gave her a little smile, trying to settle his heart before saying anything that could mess up the delicate relationship that they had going on. 

Of course, Cassandra went to the sweets and cookies. Horace went back to those potatoes. 

He was pulled from his enjoyment by Cassandra’s laughter. He mockingly scowled her and her laughter got stronger. “Leave me alone. Halt’s already made fun of me. I’m a growing boy. Leave me alone!” 

“Horace, I just watched you devour almost entire plate of potatoes. I think that you deserve just a little bullying.” Cassandra’s fingers were close together as she smirked. 

“Fuck off. I like food.” 

“I think that you devouring that plate of potatoes, goes a little past ‘liking’.” Cassandra scoffed and nibbled on a cookie. 

“Says the girl who ate like a whole bundle of cookies in one day and now is eating more now,” Horace teased back. 

“Hey, I deserve this. I’ve had to deal with setting up all this bullshit.” 

“Speaking which, nice dancing with your dad.” 

Cassandra tossed back her loose curls over her shoulder and let out a little huff. “Of course it was. I’m an excellent dancer. Thank you for noticing. You’re not bad either.”

“You don’t have to be polite.” 

“I’m not! You’re pretty good. A lot better than I thought you’d be.” Horace rolled his eyes at the thought of him being a good dancer. Cassandra grabbed a flute of alcohol and smiled brightly at Horace. “I”m going to go socialize. I know you’re like on high alert but I can’t be acting out strangely.” 

“Right, I’ll just hang back. Make sure everything’s okay. Um, you haven’t seen Cora have you?”   
Her face clouded over with an emotion that Horace couldn’t interpret it well. She shook her head and ran a thumb over the glass. “No I haven’t. Why?”  
  
“Um, well, I’d like to know my variables before going into combat and I haven’t seen her.” 

“Cora can hold her own.” 

Horace believed that, but he had a little McAngus glaring at him at the edges of his vision. Horace shook his head, lowering the small cake that he was going to eat. “I believe that but I don’t want her to get to that point. You know?” 

“That’s real sweet. I’ll keep an eye out for her.” 

“Thank you.” 

Cassandra nodded and Horace watched her leave with a heavy heart. Every part of him screamed to keep her close to him. 


	11. Chapter 11

Screams engulfed Cassandra, she couldn’t figure out what happened. A second earlier she had been chatting away with some of the ladies who had come from Seacliff, she loved leaving their stories about sailing and sea, before she had been shoved roughly to the floor. That’s when she heard the screams. 

The screams started growing louder and began to scatter around the hall. 

Cassandra tried wiggling to get on her back, her heavy dress and the heavy pressure on her back prevented her from doing so. She eventually pushed the weight off her and rolled to her side. 

Shit.   
  
Standing in front of her was a terrifying man with a wicked looking knife and Cassandra was trapped under a slender woman’s body. Oh gods, please don’t let her be dead. Oh no. Cassandra recognized her. It was Cora. Shit. Horace was going to kill her. That’s if she survived this. 

Her brain was frozen. She couldn’t think of a plan. Cassandra didn’t know what to do. All she could do was stare at her would-be-killer. 

“Help. Someone help,” Cassandra whimpered. 

What didn’t she think to bring a knife or her sling, or something? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  
The man, while grinning sadistically, said something in Pictan and raised his saxe. Cassandra grabbed into Cora and tried to pull her away from the soldier. The man lunged at Cassandra but was pulled back by a pair of strong arms. 

Cassandra stopped trying to back paddle with Cora in her arms, the girl was prone and was clammy to the touch, and stared at the scene in front of her in horror. Horace had wrestled the first attacker to the ground and was trying get the saxe away from him. 

“Behind you!” Cassandra screamed. 

Horace spun around as a second attacker ripped through the crowd with a saxe outstretched. He grabbed the man’s wrist, yanking the saxe out of his hand and slamming his elbow into the guy’s throat. He crumpled like a sack of potatoes. 

Cassandra was trapped as she watched as the man on the floor pull a second, smaller knife from out of his boot and attacked Horace. The knife slide onto Horace’s back. 

Horace crumpled to the floor, his face twisted into a grimace. 

As his attacker stood in preparation to attack, there was a low whistling sound and a second later an arrow slammed into the guys side. He let out a guttural scream as blood started stain his white shirt. 

The mass of horrified onlookers screeched as two more men appeared from the folds of the crowd. 

Shit. 

Cassandra tried to paw for something to use as a weapon to defend herself and Cora. 

It seemed like Cora came prepared. Sticking out of her her bodice was the hilt of a knife. Cassandra grabbed the knife and stood up with the knife posed for throwing. She couldn’t get a clear shot. Horace taken on both new assailants and it seemed that Will or Halt, whomever shot the arrow, had the same same dilemma as no new arrows came soaring in. 

She wavered in her stance, wanting to help but terrified she’d hit Horace. 

Horace caught her eye, his mask had been ripped off in the fight, and Cassandra could swear that he gave her a little nod of assurance. Like he trusted her not hit him. Had he not seen her miss half of her targets? 

No. 

She could do this. She was a warrior. 

Cassandra took in a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. From the shoulder, like Horace told her. She could do this. 

Now was better than ever. 

Before she had the chance to doubt herself like she always did, she threw the knife. The blade of the knife was caught in the light making it shine like a roughly hewn diamond. Cassandra watched, transfigured in horror, as the knife sailed through the air and had had that same satisfying thunk when it hit its target. 

The man that it hit loosened his grip in Horace. Horace slammed his boot heel into the soft part of the man’s chest and then grabbed the collar of the remaining man and slammed him to the floor where an arrow met him. 

The sickening crunch of where the arrow met the bone made Cassandra’s stomach revolt in turmoil, bringing up memories of that clearing riddled with bodies and the sickeningly smell of blood. She shouldn’t have eaten so much. 

She turned to the side and vomited, sobbing heavily. 

“Shit. Princess.” Horace came stumbling over. 

“Cora! Check on Cora!” Cassandra waved him off. She covered her face and sobbed. She, she, Cassandra couldn’t. 

“Baby girl. It’s okay.” Dad picked her up and held her tightly to his chest. She gripped onto him tightly and sobbed. Why her? Why? “You’re safe. You’re safe now.” 

Cassandra nodded, staring into the space around her. She couldn’t focus. 

“It’s over, come on. You’re okay.” His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, pulling her away, pulling her too safety. 

“Wait, Cora!” Cassandra wrestled to get out of her father’s grip. She collapsed to the ground next to Horace who had gathered Cora in his arms. Her skin looked even pale next to the bold red and gold of her gown. The dark crimson of her blood stained her bodice. Her red and swirling gold cat mask lay abandoned. 

Fire-hot tears streamed down her face. No. No. No. No! 

She couldn’t loose her friend because she sacrificed herself for her. “Please Cora! Please!” Cassandra sobbed, grabbing hold of one of her small hands. She heard Horace mumbling, what Cassandra assumed to be a prayer, in his native tongue. 

“Did we win?” Cora mumbled, her eyes feebly flickered open. Cassandra laughed out of pure relief and kissed Cora’s hand. “Your majesty? You okay?” 

“Don’t worry about me.” Cassandra laughing and wiping the tears from her face. “I’m fine dear. I’m fine.” 

“Don’t speak. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Keep your strength,” Horace ordered. “You need a medic.” 

“Yes seanair,” Cora mumbled, weakly punching Horace in the chest and then closing her eyes. Horace scoffed but had that amused twinkle in his eyes.

“Come on. Let’s get you some help.” Horace picked up her up effortlessly. 

“Horace, you’re bleeding!” Cassandra scrambled to her feet, seeing the pooling red on his doublet. 

He grunted and waved her off. “I’ll be fine. The jerkin and doublet took most of the blow. Cora needs help. Now.” 

“Follow me.” Cassandra put a hand on Horace’s elbow before turning to her father. “I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you later.” 

“Be safe. We don’t know if there’s more in the castle,” Dad muttered to Horace and Cassandra. 

Horace gave him a curt nod. “Clean up the bodies. Grab the tartans and the rings. They’ll be able to be used as evidence. There might be more evidence, don’t let anyone you don’t trust touch them.” 

“Of course.”   
  
Cassandra pulled Horace to get going. Who knew how long Cora had left? He hurried after her, Cora hanging limply in his arms. 

“Alan! Anna Maria! Please!” Cassandra burst into the medical bay. 

Anna Maria, an older Gallican woman with streaks of silver in her dark hair, came bustling into the main room with a lace shawl pulled over her shoulders. “Oh dear, put her down on the cot,” she ordered Horace. 

Horace did as told. Cora looked deathly pale and was having trouble gasping for air. Cassandra heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach to see her friend in such condition. She was as pale as a marble statue. Her breathing was shallow and raspy. 

She clung onto Horace’s hand and her big dark brown eyes were wide with fear. Horace murmured to her in Pictian. Cora seemed to understand him and murmured back. Cassandra caught a name. Uona. She must be the goddess of healing or something. 

“What happened?” Alan came out of the same room as Anna Maria. 

“She was stabbed, trying to save me. She lost a lot of blood.” Tears filled her vision once again. Cassandra couldn’t stop staring at the fraying woman. Poor Cora. Cora whimpered in fear, closing her eyes once more. Horace bowed his head and kissed her hand before starting to pray again. 

Horace was pulled back by Cassandra as Anna Maria and Alan rushed around the small room. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Horace asked. His voice cracked with fear. Cassandra took his hand in support. He squeezed it back. 

Anna Maria stopped and shook her head. “There is nothing you can do. She is in our hands now. Perhaps you should leave now and protect the future baroness’ dignity.” 

Cassandra could see Horace wanting to refuse. He was the type to plant his feet and wait. She waved to Anna Maria to close the curtain, separating them from Cora. Horace looked like he was going to   
crack. 

“Horace, there’s nothing we can do for her. We’d just be getting in the way. Let’s leave and let Alan and Anna Maria do their job, okay?” Cassandra tried to reason with him. 

“Cassandra,” Horace tore his eyes away from Cora and stared her in the eyes. “I can’t let her die. I can’t.” He stumbled over his words. 

“Horace. I get it. But staying here won’t help her. Do you trust me?” 

He paused, his stance flickering. “I do.” 

“Then trust me. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

“I know you’re worried. So am I. But we have to trust Alan and Anna Marie.” Cassandra took both of his hands in hers. 

“Okay.” 

“Good.” Cassandra kissed his cheek. Horace faltered and bowed his head. “Come on. Let’s go. We have to meet the others. The best way to help Cora is figure out who the fuck these men are and how to screw them back. Agreed.”

There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. It lit a fire in her stomach. “Agreed.”   
***  
The mood of her father’s study was sour to be the least. Cassandra bet that most of them had hoped that the threat wasn’t real. Now it’s happened. Dad had his hands in his face when Cassandra and Horace entered. “How is she? Cora, Theo’s daughter.” 

Alyss shared a terrified look with Pauline while Will and Halt had stony expressions.   
  
“Lifeless but still kicking. She’s in the hands of gods now.” Horace collapsed onto a chair. He looked horrible. His face gaunt and pale. 

“And you, Horace?” Halt asked. 

“My side feels like someone lit it on fire and I’m fucking pissed off.”

“Rightfully so,” Will added. Horace gave him a grim smile. 

“But on the plus side, I think the bleeding has stopped.” Horace gave them a tired thumbs up. 

The door slammed open and came in a very irate looking Lord Altman and an equally pissed Crowley, but Cassandra assumed for a very different reason. Halt took a step forward to confront Lord Altman and Cassandra seized the opportunity to hide behind him. 

“Why is this man not in chains?” Lord Altman gabbed a finger in Horace’s direction. Horace didn’t even bother looking up. He looked so exhausted.   
  
“What do you mean, Lord Altman?” Dad waved a tired hand. “From what I saw, General Altman saved my daughter being murdered by an assassin. Several of them. And was injured from it.”

“He is a Scotti. A warmonger. You think he cares about an injury that small? He probably was in cahoots with them! Now that daughter of Norgate’s baron has been gravely injured, it aids them in their question to destroy Araluen!” 

“The Baroness of Norgate has Scotti ancestry. Any smart Warlord wouldn’t dare attempt to attack her as she lay claims to be a family member of a Warlord. They would provoke a war with that clan.” Horace sounded and looked like he was half asleep. 

“And how would you know that?” Lord Altman snapped. 

“Because a Baron wouldn’t marry a commoner, you idiot. She would have to be related to a Warlord, that is the equivalent to a king. I wouldn’t dare to hurt her or the princess.” Horace snapped back, standing up with enough force to send his chair flying back. 

Lord Altman stumbled back, glaring at Horace and then to the king. “I demand to be reinstated to my former position so we can wipe out those filthy bastards one and for all. They must pay!” 

The air in the room grew cold and quiet. 

Cassandra didn’t have much of a role to play in the selection of the generals when it came to the war, but just Lord Altman made it very clear what he had done. 

“You lead the night attacks. You slaughtered my men. Unarmed men sleeping in their cots,” Horace snarled, barely restraining himself. 

“I did what had to be done! And I’d do it again. You, your majesty, cannot touch me. The Altman Estate is independent upon the agreement of my forefathers: that we will remain independent from the ruling of the king, and in return we give you access to our iron mines.” 

With his jaw locked, Horace’s burning eyes switched to dad. Dad tried to put on a brave face but Cassandra could see him wilt under Horace’s gaze. Both Will and Halt’s hands dropped to their sheathed saxes.

“Unfortunately this is true general. Lord Altman is immune to our law,” Pauline tried to defuse the situation.

“Technically he’s not the official lord. He doesn’t have the ring. He is a just stand in,” Halt muttered. 

“Slander!” Lord Altman squeaked.   
  
“Shut up!” Horace growled, grabbing front of Lord Altman’s shirt and slammed him against a wall. Lord Altman squeaked and shut up. Horace turned back toward dad, his face still withering. “Is this why you’ve been dragging your feet?” 

“I’m sorry, Horace. If I tried to bring him in then there’d be a revolt. Trust me, I’d rather arrest him then listen to him prattle on.”

“I understand. You do what you have to do for the well being of your kingdom.” Horace brushed him off. Dad looked relieved. Horace gave Lord Altman a disgusted look and dropped him. Lord Altman crumpled to the floor. “This should help.” Horace pulled off his father’s ring and dropped into Halt’s open plan. 

What did this entail? Cassandra sat on the edge of a table and continued to watch the scene unfold. 

Halt examined the ring with a heavy frown. “What is it, Halt?” Crowley asked. 

“It’s the Altman family crest. The missing ring. Wondered where it went.” Halt twirled the ring. 

“He must have stolen it! Scotti are thieves!” Lord Altman protested. Alyss and Pauline both crossed their arms and rolled their eyes at him. 

“Horace, how did you come across this ring?” Dad asked. 

Horace glared at Lord Altman with as much force he could summon. “It was my father’s before he died. It was passed onto me as is tradition.” 

If Horace had that ring then Cassandra was right. He was Lord Altman’s nephew. The son of oldest son. That would mean that Horace’s hatred of Araluens was justified. They did nothing to bring this attempted murder to justice. 

Well, they couldn’t. But Cassandra was sure that Horace didn’t care about semantics. 

“Now it is my understanding that Araluen custom decrees that the son inherits the title. Am I wrong?” 

“No. You’re not. If you’re Aldwin’s son then the title is yours. Archer is the second son and didn’t officially sign the roster of lords. The only reason he clings to the title was there no one else to take it from him.” While Pauline’s face didn’t betray any emotion, Cassandra could pick up on a hint of amusement. 

“He is a bastard! His parents were never officially married under Araluen rule!” Lord Altman, or should Cassandra called him Archer, tried to protest. 

“Even a bastard can inherit his father’s title if there is no official heir. You know this, Archer.” Dad waved him off.

Lord Altman paled and he looked between Horace and dad. Horace looked downright murderously gleeful. “So as actual heir to the Altman Estate, do I get the choice to decide what to do with family members who are above the law?” Horace’s tone returned to its calm and calculated tone. 

“You do.” Pauline indicated. Cassandra could see the deep gleam of satisfaction in Halt’s eyes. 

“Good.” Horace snarled. He grabbed onto his uncle’s collar and sneered at him. “You have a week to collect your belongings or whatever you seem valuable from the trashpile that you call a home and get out of Araluen.” 

“A week? I won’t have time to assemble any sort of living arrangements!” Archer protested. 

“I don’t care. One week. That’s it,” Horace snarled. 

The former Lord Altman weakly nodded. Horace dropped him and he scrambled to get out. The door banged shut as he left. 

Horace turned to Crowley. “Arrest him as soon as he leaves this castle. Send a ranger to the estate and see if there’s any evidence. Turn it upside down. I don’t care.” 

“Of course. I like your style.” Crowley smirked. 

“Why go through all of that if you’re just going to have him arrested?” Alyss asked. 

“I want him to have hope. Hope that he might just make it out alive. That he might escape. And it to be snuffed out at the very last moment. That’ll be his punishment for trying to murder my father. Hopefully he’ll hang for his crimes against the Scotti.” 

There was a murmur of agreement through the small room. 

Horace shook his head and collapsed back onto his chair with his face in his hands. 

“What happened to your father, may I ask?” Halt asked. 

Well, the one thing that Cassandra knew for certain was that he was dead and along with Horace’s mother but she didn’t bring that up. It wasn’t her place. “He escaped to Picta. Became the Captain of the city guard, married my mother, and then died protecting Shal when I was ten.” 

“He was a good man.” Halt shook his head. “Didn’t deserve what his brother did to him.” 

“Didn’t know you were capable of liking people,” Horace muttered. Will howled in laughter and then smothered it when Halt glared at him. 

“He wasn’t the worst. Tolerable, compared to others,” Halt muttered. Horace snorted in amusement. 

“While I love the camaraderie, we should get back what happened,” Crowley pointed out. 

“How did you find out about your dad? I mean last you said you didn’t want to know about your dad when Alyss asked you.” Will asked. Alyss similarly looked interested. 

Horace put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I knew that my father left because my uncle tried to kill him and he was from Redmont. I had Erik, he’s kind of the guy who brings my meals and he also works at the library, go look for seals for different houses and compare it to mine.” 

“Where you going to tell us?” Alyss asked. 

“I don’t know. Probably not. No offence, but I don’t care about this at all. I’ve got a good life back home.” Horace shrugged. Cassandra wondered like his home was like. He spoke about it often and it sounded like the village equivalent of a little cottage. 

“That’s fair,” Cassandra mumbled. 

His eyes flickered over to Cassandra and she should see a shadow of a satisfied smirk. Cassandra blushed and looked down, smiling to herself.  
  
“Can I have my ring back?” Horace asked. 

Pauline sighed. “Horace, to properly evict and arrest Lord Altman, we will need to show proof to Baron Arald. That ring is it.” 

Horace’s face flickered. “Oh. Right. Can I have it back eventually? It's the only thing I have left of him.” 

“Of course, dear. As soon as possible.” Pauline took the ring from Halt. “Alyss and I will go right away. It’ll be back before you know it.” 

“Thank you.” 

Pauline pressed a small kiss to Horace’s forehead and she and Alyss left the room. 

“What will you do with your family’s estate?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace made a face and waved it off. “Probably find a half-decent relative down the line. Re-chart that stupid agreement. I’m not worried about that currently. We have bigger, worse things to deal with. Do you have the cloaks and rings?” 

“Yeah, here.” Will moved away from the table that he was leaning against. Cassandra hadn’t noticed that before. She wandered over to the table. There was an assortment of signet rings, smaller than the one that Araluen men wore, and tartan cloaks that they must have been wearing. The tartan was black with red squares with white outlining the red, and blue thread running vertical and horizontal through the middle of the square. 

It was rather beautiful. Tartan in general was gorgeous. One day Cassandra hoped to be wrapped up in one, just not this one. She much preferred green to this depressing black. 

“What are you hoping to find?” Crowley asked.  
  
Horace pointed to the tartan. “These are the colours of MacFrewin. It confirms our suspicions. It was them. The rings will tell us who lead the attack. Even if I can’t, someone back home will be able too.” He picked one of them and frowned deeply. 

“What’s wrong?” Cassandra asked. 

“It’s the house of MacFrewin himself. His son must have decided to lead the charge. This doesn’t bode well for MacFrewin.” 

“It shows that he got his hands dirty,” dad said. 

“Plausible deniability. Just because his son attacked us doesn’t prove that he did,” Halt argued. 

“Yes but attacking your daughter doesn’t look well on the whole clan. If MacFrewin’s son himself attacks... essentially a Warmaiden, it shows that the entire clan has disregarded our whole culture. No one wants to work with a man who disregards our culture. It’s why we didn’t want to work with you for the longest time.” 

No one looked like they really believed Horace and Horace himself looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know if he should tell them. He glared at the ring with more anger than towards his uncle. 

They were interrupted by a timid knock on the door. 

“What now?” Dad muttered. Crowley shook his head and went to open the door. 

“Oh, hello mister Ranger sir. Can I come in? Or am I not allowed?” Cassandra’s head shot up, as did Horace’s. She shouldn’t be out of bed. 

“Cora!” Cassandra pushed Crowley out of the way and hugged the petite girl. She was in her shift and had Anna Maria’s lace shawl pulled tightly over her. “You’re okay!” 

Cora felt fragile in Cassandra’s arms. She shivered and clung onto her. 

“I told her your majesty, that she should stay in bed. Leave this to you, but alas she did not listen.” Anna Maria shook her head, hovering nervously around Cora. 

“It’s okay Anna Maria. We’ll watch over her. Send her back once everything’s done,” Cassandra assured her. 

“If you say so dear.” Anna Maria didn't look convinced. “Take it easy, dear.” She patted Cora’s side and headed back to the infirmary.

“Come in.” Cassandra ushered poor Cora into the room. She practically ran into Horace’s arms. Horace scooped her up in his arms and held her like she was going to be ripped away from his arms. 

Cassandra tried to ignore the stab of jealousy that bloomed while she watched them. 

“Cora, you shouldn’t be up. You look terrible. And you’re shivering!” Horace pulled off his jerkin and almost stuffed Cora into his doublet and generally just began to mother-hen her. 

“Horace.” Cora weakly whined. 

“Sorry.” He backed off with his hands up. Cassandra’s eyes flickered to the red spot that soaked up half of his shirt on the right side. Horace caught Cassandra’s eye and gave her a small wink as he buttoned his jerkin back up. 

Cora gave Horace a little smile which he returned and turned to dad, giving him a weak title curtsy before stumbling into the chair. “Sorry for intruding, your majesty.” 

“Cora, you save my daughter’s life almost at the cost of your own. I should be apologizing to you.” Dad sat up in his chair. Cora smiled back in response. “Is there something that you wished tell us?” 

Cora took in a deep breath and took in a deep breath. “I want to help and I can help.” 

“Cora, you need rest.” Horace frowned at the poor girl.

“Horace!” Cora snapped. 

“Sorry. It’s just, uh your family terrifies me. And if they find out what happened, I think they’d kill me.” That seemed to soothe Cora a little, as she giggled.

“What, Baron Theo? Phst. The guy is a total softie.” Will shook his head and laughed. 

“Not the Baron. His wife and her family. I mean, you met Aila. She could crush me and not feel anything afterwards! I like my body the way it is currently!” Horace protested. His body was certainly was nice. 

Wait, if the Baroness had Scotti heritage, that would mean that Cora was Scotti. Why didn’t she tell Cassandra? 

Cora pulled Horace’s doublet closer over her and looked back to dad. “I don’t know what you guys are planning to do but, uh, I know that I can help because, well my granddad is Warlord and I guess that technically makes me a Warmaiden?” She looked over to Horace. 

He gave her a tired shrugged. “Technically. That’s applying the term rather loosely at this point. You’ve got some power but not much.”

“What? Seriously?” Cassandra blurted out accidentally. Her grandfather was a Warlord? How the fuck did that happened. She felt terrible when Cora seemed to shrink into her chair. Her eyes were downcast and she stared at her hands. Horace put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and sent Cassandra a withering gaze. “Sorry. Sorry. That came out wrong.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you guys. I’m proud of my heritage, it’s just that, well folks aren’t real welcoming to us.” Cora fiddled with her hands. 

“Did you know?” Cassandra looked over to Horace. 

His face was annoyingly blank. “I did. I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t my place to say anything.” 

Cassandra crossed her arms and looked at her feet. He had a point. 

“I didn’t want to say anything before Cora told you, but if Cora wants to help then we have a better case because they literally attacked a Warmaiden. Her grandparents they aren’t going to be happy with MacFrewin.” Cassandra watched as he and Cora shared a look. 

“What if they blame us? They seem rather inclined to do that.” Crowley asked. 

“Why the fuck would they do that? Cora was attacked by a member of the MacFrewin clan so was the princess. It’s obvious that you guys weren’t the root of the attack.”

“You were also attacked,” Will said. His voice was rather quiet. 

Horace waved it off. “I don’t matter. Generals are replaceable. Warmaidens aren’t.” 

“That being said, It don’t think that it’s the person that they attack but what you stand for. Horace, you are our official link between both sides. If that’s severed, there’s like nothing holding us together. Stop dismissing yourself like that,” Cassandra argued. Cassandra didn’t like it when he talked about himself. He was a great and really kind person and when he did that, it hurt. It hurt because Cassandra seemed powerless whenever he did that. He wouldn’t believe her. He barely knew her. 

“I agree with her. Stop thinking for the betterment of the clan, and think about yourself.” Cora weakly whacked his leg. 

“Alright, alright.” Horace held up in surrender. There was a small smile on his face that Cassandra counted as a win. “But seriously, in the eyes of the council, I don’t know how much my attack is worth. If that makes sense.” 

“So what do we do from here? From what I understand, each clan has their own rules and there’s no way that MacFrewin would punish himself.” Dad asked. 

“Horace, you mentioned a council?” Crowley asked. 

“The council of Warmaidens. It was created for this sort of thing. A Warmaiden, usually the wife of the Warlord, from each clan goes to an undisclosed location and sorts out issues that arise. They’re practically our politicians and ambassadors.” 

No wonder Horace wasn’t at all fazed by Cassandra’s title.   
  
“Then why wasn’t a Warmaiden there when we signed that treaty?” Halt made quotation marks around the word treaty. 

“No offence, Ranger Halt, but Araluen hasn’t been open to female politicians. I mean look at all the backlash the princess is getting. And Lady Pauline, and Lady Alyss now. Warlords keep their Warmaidens away because historically you guys have been rather rude and cruel to them,” Cora piped up. 

Cassandra crossed her arms and nudged one of the tassels on the carpet. Cora was right. There was a lot of backlash. Even from her own father, sometimes. Cassandra wanted to learn more about politics and how the kingdom run and dad always brushed her off. If she was going to be the princess, she needed to start learning now or else people were going to take advantage of her or she’d be none the wiser. 

“A Warmaiden might not have been there when that deal went down, but the council was the one who passed the deal.” 

“So what? We go ask the council for help?” Halt asked. 

Horace looked uncertain. He bit his thumb nail in thought. The longer he thought, the more distraught he became. 

“You okay?” Will asked. 

“Sorry. It’s just that I don’t know.” Horace sighed, rubbing his face. “I’m a military man, not a politician, even then my General title is rather new. I don’t know what to do.”   
  
Cora took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. They had a little silent conversation which ended with Horace shaking his head. Cora turned back to Cassandra and Dad. “There’s the option of asking to ostracize him.” 

Horace didn’t look like he agreed with that. “I don’t know, Cora. That’s a pretty big thing to be asking. I don’t know if we have enough to ask for that.” 

“What’s ostracizing someone?” Crowley asked. 

“It’s like a really severe punishment, if I remember correctly.” Cassandra’s ears went a little red when Horace nodded to her. 

“Yeah, uh, you get stripped of your tartan and ring and are cast out of your clan. Pretty shitty. The Warlord version of ostracizing is stripping the Warlord and the clan of their tartan and casting him out. His clan members have the choice to follow him, make their own clan or join a new one. It’s a really extreme measure. I’d like to do that, it’ll nip it in the bud. But I don’t know if we’ll have enough support for that.” 

“Meaning?” Will asked, looking a little confused. 

“We’ll need close to a majority of the votes to achieve that. And we have, that I know for certain, three votes.” 

“They attacked a Warmaiden, Horace, by your own account isn’t that one of the most horrible things that someone can do?” Cassandra asked. 

“The perpetrator of that crime was killed by a Scotti General in retaliation. If I were a Warmaiden sitting on that counsel, I would be hesitant to ostracize MacFrewin,” Halt argued back. 

“Thank you Halt,” Dad muttered. Halt shrugged, not looking like he was bothered. “What do we do Horace?” 

“We can go to the counsel and ask for punishment. It might not be ostracizing but it’ll be something. We can talk to Warmaidens NioLyall and NioEvanne for advice before.” 

“And they are?” 

“NioEvanna is my mom. I’m NioAila!” Cora smiled brightly at dad. 

“NioLyall is the official Warmaiden of the McAngus clan. She sits on the counsel. She’ll know what to do. That’s the best I can think of right now.” Horace rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to suppress a yawn. 

“I should have kept Alyss and Pauline with us.” Dad shook his head. 

“About that, your majesty, I don’t think that sending Lady Alyss or Lady Pauline will be enough.” Cora couldn’t look dad in the eye. 

Dad frowned at Cora. She shrunk into her chair. 

“She’s unfortunately right. Sending a courier for this situation, will send a message that you don’t care enough about this to send a family member.” Horace took dad’s wrath away from Cora. 

“And this family member would be my daughter?” Dad asked. 

Shit. 

Cassandra didn’t know if she was capable of this yet. If she went to Picta to ask for this then everything rests on her shoulder. If she fucked up then all of this delicate balance would be gone. She didn’t know if she could do that. 

Fuck. 

No. She could do it. This is what she wanted to do and she could do this. She was a princess. She made that treaty with the Skandians. She could do it. She not only made that treaty but survived in Skandia when the whole country was after her. 

Horace shrugged. “It’s within the code of the clans not to attack Warmaidens. The princess coming to Picta to ask for help is a huge leap of trust that would impress even the most jaded Warlords and Warmaidens.” 

“Besides, she’ll be traveling with a two Warmaidens. She’ll be protected!” Cora said. 

Dad, still not fully on board, looked quizzically to Horace. Horace shrugged again. “We’d swing by Norgate and pick up NioEvanna. Not is it against the code to attack Warmaidens, Warmaidens are trained to fight and if I’m being honest, NioEvanna scares me. Not to mention, we’d take Will and Halt.” 

“Duncan, Cassandra is our best option to actually make lasting and meaningful peace with Picta. I know you’re scared to lose her but she’s an adult and the Crown princess. She has to learn these things if she’ll be queen,” Halt jumped it. 

“Exactly. She’s my only daughter. My only heir. What if she gets hurt?” Dad shot back. 

She was going to have a hard time learning how to negotiate with other kingdoms and lords if dad didn’t let her learn. Cassandra bit back a snappy retort, knowing it wouldn’t help her case, and just glared at her dad’s back. 

“It’s a leap of faith, sir. And not to mention, if McKentick was able to bring over the Araluen soldiers through the border then the McAngus clan has control of the border. Passing through will be safe. The McAngus clan will protect your daughter.” 

“Dad, you always tell me that we have to trust those close to us to help us or else we’re going to end up like great, great-how many times grandfather Julius. Remember? Both Horace and Cora have literally taken a knife for me. I trust them. Not to mention both Will and Halt have saved my life several times.” 

Dad sighed and rubbed his nose. “You have a point. Fine. Alright.”

She was shocked. He actually agreed with minimal fighting. Cassandra squealed and tackled dad into a hug. He sighed and patted her arm. 

“We’ll leave at dawn, then.” Halt shambled to his feet. 

Cora didn’t look too pleased at that, but she put on a brave face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Halt, come on, Cora was just stabbed. She looks like she’s going to pass out at any second,” Horace argued. 

“Horace, I can ride. I’ll be fine.” Cassandra had a hard time believing that. 

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. You won’t be much help if you die of blood loss on the way there Cora. Plus your grandparents, again, will kill me if that happens.” 

“That’s fair. You won’t get much support if I’m dead,” Cora mused.   
  
“Not to mention, you got stabbed too, Horace,” Cassandra pointed out. 

Horace winced when he moved a certain way but tried to wave it off. “Don’t, man. She’s got a point. Let’s go get you some stitches. And you,” Will looked over to Cora, who was on the verge of falling asleep, “Should be back to the infirmary too.” 

“Fine.” Halt’s face softened at Cora, who was trying to stay awake. “We’ll wait a couple of days.” 

“It’ll give us some breathing room. We can send a message to NioLyall so she won’t have the wool thrown over her eyes and we can see if the border is in our control and come up with strategies,” Horace said. 

Halt nodded and gathered up the tartans and evidence. “I’ll keep these safe.” 

“Was there anything else on the bodies?” Horace asked. 

Halt shoved them into a bag and shrugged. “A few things but I didn’t know what you will find useful.” 

“I’ll take a look later. Tomorrow.” Horace yawned, raised in his fist to block the yawn. “After some sleep.” 

“Mhm, come on buddy. Infirmary time. You too Cora. If you’d excuse us, your majesty.” Will looked over to dad. 

Dad waved them off. “Everyone, go get some sleep. We all need it.” 

Will nodded and then shooed Cora and Horace out of the small office. 


	12. Chapter 12

Horace was overwhelmed with emotions. Almost every step and breath he took was painful despite what he told the others. That knife hurt. Fuck MacFrewin, but jokes on him, because of course the assassins used personalized saxes that they had flaunted to anyone who they came in contact with. 

He was going home. Shit. He couldn’t believe it. Sure he was going home for business only and probably would be coming back to help ease tensions but it’d be nice to see his friends, his people. 

They were leaving in the morning, Halt giving Cora and Horace a couple of days to strengthen up, so Horace was packing. He shoved his statue of Leldir in his pack and gave back the statue of Koris to Cora. She needed Koris a lot more than Horace. 

Cora wasn’t getting any better, she looked pale and shaky. But determined. That’s what worried Horace. She was stubborn to the point where Horace was worried that she’d push herself and injure herself even more. 

He’d have to speak with Halt before they left to set out a low pace. There was no immediate rush. Horace wasn’t worried about being attacked again. At least while they were still in Araluen. In Picta, it could be different but they’d have an entire army to protect Cassandra. Not just a small handful people. 

Horace doubled check that he had everything. It would be a short trip to Castle Norgate where Aila was supposed to meet them. He was glad that Aila was coming with them. She could keep Cora from pushing herself too hard and had enough righteous fury in her that if anyone tried to attack, she’d be on them before Will and Halt would have their bows nocked and loaded. 

There was a small knock on his door and Horace crossed his small ransacked room and opened the door. “Hey princess.” He couldn’t help but smile. It slipped when he saw her worried face. “Something wrong?” 

She took in a deep breath. “I’m nervous, no, terrified that I’m not going to do well. I don’t know who else to go too. I’m sorry for barging in.” 

“You’re never barging in on me,” Horace assured her. He ushered her in and closed the door. “And I don’t think that you’ll screw up. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were one of us. Stubborn and passionate.” 

Cassandra poked him in the chest. She looked mildly annoyed, but at the same time looking a little amused, at him. 

Horace caught the hand and pressed a kiss to it. “All good things, I swear,” he mused. 

“You seemed to hate me a lot during our first meeting,” she argued, not looking at him but staring at their hands.

“Yes, but do keep in mind, I just came from the battlefield. I was tired and mad that I couldn’t go home. Now, you’re bringing home a general and two Warmaidens. The situation is different. Not to mention, you’re going to be giving McAngus the excuse to break the treaty that he wanted to break so much.” 

“Great, I’m helping with inner politics.” 

“Mhm, you can’t avoid it with Scotti’s. There’s fifteen clans.” Horace wasn’t too pleased to be talking about politics with her when they were inches apart and that craving to kiss her until they were breathless again. 

“Why fifteen? Seems like an odd number,” Cassandra mused. Her voice lowered to a husky tone that drove Horace crazy. 

“I don’t know. I’m a warrior not a historian.” Horace couldn’t help but give her a smirk, his eyes dropping to her her lips that were also upturned in a smirk.

“A pretty one nonetheless.” Cassandra tugged on his necklace, pulling him to her, closing the already small gap between them. 

“Takes one to know one. Princess.” His smirk grew bigger at her pout. Her mouth was so inviting, plush and warm looking. Horace wanted to kiss her so badly. 

Her pretty green eyes are beckoning to him. An invitation that Horace excitedly took. It seemed that she wanted this so badly. He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Cassandra laced her arms around his neck, pulling him down. She felt as desperate as he did. Gods, he missed her. 

How she felt his arms. 

How her mouth felt against hers. 

All of it. 

Horace tangled his hair in her silky gorgeous curls, tugging on it a little. She responded to it with a cute little squeak and Horace kept kissing her. Kissing her with everything he had. 

Seeing that man over her with the knife, awoken something in Horace. All he could see was rage. More rage than he thought that he had. It engulfed him to the point that he got sloppy and he paid the price for it. 

Her nails dug into the soft skin of his neck. It felt so good. He bit her lip, probably a little harder than he should have but he was just caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that kind of burst when they kissed. 

“Horace,” Cassandra whimpered. 

Horace slowly broke the kiss and kissed the edges of her mouth, hands dropping to her waist. “Sorry, got carried away.” 

“Fuck, keep getting carried away.” She tilted her head so that they could kiss again. As they started to kiss, their hands started exploring. Horace couldn’t help himself. She was just so fucking pretty that he wanted, no needed, to explore. 

He picked her up, his intent to carry her to the couch, and promptly nearly dropped her when it felt like his right side was being stabbed again. “Shit.” He stumbled back, clutching his side. 

“Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry.” Apologies spilled from her lips as she hurried over to him. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just went overboard.” Horace panted, leaning against the couch and clutching his side. At least he didn’t pull his stitches and start bleeding again. He couldn’t help but smile at her fussing around. “Princess, I’m fine.” He tucked a small lock of hair behind her ear. 

“You got hurt again, because of me.” Cassandra stuck out her lower lip in worry. 

“Princess.” Horace sighed. “Cassandra.” Cassandra stopped fussing around, staring at him with big eyes. “I’m fine. I’m going to sit down. Come on.” He took her hand and then collapsed onto the couch. 

Cassandra sat a little more gracefully, draping her legs over his lap and snuggled up to him. Horace tucked an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her jawline. She felt so comfortable. “I know what you’re about to say, we shouldn’t have done that. Blah, blah, blah,” Cassandra grumbled. 

“Princess.” Horace shook his head, playing with a small ring on her finger. “Sure, maybe we shouldn’t have done that. But I could have died. Cora could have. All I could think afterwards was that how stupid I was being for saying that we shouldn’t be together. I could have died and lost you forever. I don’t know what the future holds for either of us but I know what I want right now. Maybe we can figure things out together.” 

Horace’s heart was in his ears when he looked over to her. He knew he fucked up but if he learnt anything from this, was that he couldn’t wait. He’d die alone. 

Cassandra paused and giggled, curling her arms around his neck. “Horace, this is most corniest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

Horace rolled his eyes and kissed her neck. “Sensitive much?” 

“But that’s sweet and I’d like that.” 

“And nice save.” He kept kissing her. 

Horace scoffed when she pushed his face away from her.   
***  
It was still dark outside when the small group met at the stables. Of course Will and Halt were bright eyed and cheery, well Will not Halt. “Cora, why aren’t you wearing a cloak?” Horace asked. 

Cora, pale but determined, shrugged and she climbed up onto her white mare. “I have one, but I’ll put it on once we leave the city.” Her eyes flickered over to Horace’s tartan and then up to him. She looked a little guilty. But Horace got it. She wanted to keep what she had going for her in Araluen. 

Horace nodded and lead Kicker out of his stall. 

Cassandra, looking adorable in a fur lined cloak that looked very similar to the Ranger’s cloak, a dull white, grey and black, frowned and looked too Horace for an explanation. He plucked at his tartan and shrugged. She nodded, understanding, and followed Cora out of the stall. 

Now that Horace saw her next too Will, Horace got what Halt was trying to go for. With her hood pulled up, she’d look like a ranger not a princess. Smart. 

Horace got Kicker and nudged him over to the small group. He yawned and looked to the small group. “Shall we?” He mumbled. 

“The sooner we get out of the city the better.” Halt cast a glance over the small square. Cora nodded, but she was shivering and looked like she just wanted to pull her cloak out at this point, the city be damned. 

They slowly started to move, Horace fell into place next to Cora. “Do you want my cloak for the time being?” He asked. 

“No. I’m a Scotti and from Norgate! I can deal with the cold.” 

“You’re also healing.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell,” Cora grumbled. “How’s your side?” 

“I’ll live. It’s not the worst,” Horace lied. It hurt but it was manageable. 

“I can’t wait to go home. And get to see my mom and dad, and gran and grandpa. It’ll be so great.” Horace couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 

The city felt a little grey and weird feeling. Horace hadn’t gone into the city that much, not having much desire to explore. At least there weren't that many people outside and they could leave in peace. The streets were completely deserted with no traffic. It was great.

Once free from the city, Cora dug around in one of her saddled bag and pulled out her own tartan. She looked so proud to do up her tartan. It almost swallowed her whole. Her tartan was designed a little differently than Horace’s - she had two slits in it that she put her arms through. It was cute. 

She pulled the hood over her head and grinned. “Much better.” 

“Adorable.” Horace shook his head.   
***  
Horace nearly cried in relief when he saw the snow capped castle of Norgate. The past couple of days had been rough. It took a lot longer than usual to travel to Norgate because they had to stop for longer periods of time to let Cora rest. Horace had seen Halt get a little irritated at times, but thankfully didn’t press it. Cora pushed herself a lot more than Horace would have liked. 

They would stay for a night or two here and then press to Mainclaw before heading to Shal. 

“Mom!” Cora slid off her horse as soon as she saw her mother and then tackled her mom into hug. Aila accepted her daughter’s hug and held her tightly. 

Halt scoffed quietly. Horace looked over to Halt and rose an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong? Allergic to emotion?” He asked. 

Halt glared at Horace and then shoved him. It was nothing hard, like a friendly shove. Horace howled with laughter when he stumbled off of Kicker. 

“You okay?” Will leaned over Tug and rose an eyebrow at Horace. 

“You sir, are an asshole.” Horace pointed to Halt. Halt flipped him off. 

“Here I had one shred of hope that this journey would be ruckus free,” Cassandra shook her head, sliding off of her horse and turning to grab her horse’s reins.

“With the power duo? No way,” Horace joked. 

She gave him a shrewd look. “Don’t raise yourself above them. You’re worse.” She jabbed a finger at him.   
  
Horace shrugged and turned towards Aila. “Warmaiden.” He gave her a nervous smile. 

Aila narrowed her eyes at Horace, a truly terrifying figure even with her daughter clinging onto her. “I remember asking you to look out for my daughter, Altman.” 

“Yes, I know.” Horace sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Will and Halt both had matching amused looks. 

“Mom!” Cora whined. Aila looked down to her daughter. “Don’t blame Horace. I chose to take the knife that was meant for the princess. He put his life on the line to save both of us. Stop it. You’re worse than Grandpa! He got stabbed!” 

Aila looked over to Horace. “Is that true?” She asked. 

Horace shrugged. “Lightly.” 

Cassandra snorted. “It wasn’t lightly.” 

“It did look pretty bad. Right Halt?” Will, asked. 

Horace glared at Will. “You were in the fucking rafters. You didn’t see shit. Stop it. Same with you Halt.” He pointed to the still figure. 

Halt rose his hands in surrender. “I’m staying out of this. You are able bodied and a lot better off than Cora. That’s all I’m saying.” 

Aila’s eyes softened. “I can’t stay mad. You look like a kicked puppy. Come here.” Horace gladly accepted the hug. She was the closest thing that he had to his mother. “I suppose that thanks in order for looking out for her.” She switched to Pictan. 

Horace continue to hug her. “If I had a choice, I would have left her in Araluen but she’s rather set on going to Shal. Takes after her mother.” He broke the hug and gave her a tired smile. 

Aila gave him a withering look that only a mother could achieve and turned to Cassandra. “You must be Evanlyn.” It had been explained to Horace when they left that when Cassandra needed to travel incognito, she used the alias Evanlyn, in honour of the maid that she lost in Celtica. It took a bit of getting used to. 

“Hello. I’m sorry about what happened with Cora and the war in general.” 

Aila shook her head. “It’s not your fault dear. The war was blown out of proportion by an asshole that goes by the name MacFrewin. Not you. And if I’m not mad at Horace, I’m not mad at you.” She then engulfed Cassandra into a hug. Cassandra smiled into Aila’s shoulder. 

“Oh hello Rangers.” Baron Theo appeared out of a building. “Hello dumpling. How are you feeling?” He looked over to his daughter.  
  
“Hi daddy!” Cora tackled her dad into hug. 

“Hello. You’re looking a little pale. Do you have enough layers?” Her father fussed over her. 

“Yes daddy,” Cora mumbled into his heavy cloak. 

He smiled and looked over to Cassandra, who appeared by Horace’s elbow. He gave her little bow of the head. “Lady Evanlyn.”

“Thank you for having us.” 

“It is our pleasure. Any friends of Cora are friends of ours.” Aila smiled brightly. She looked over to Halt and Will. “Are you two going to sulk on your horses?” 

“We don’t sulk,” Halt muttered. 

“Right. You brood. Now come and enjoy some dinner. Someone will see to your horses.” Aila ushered them towards the dining hall. 

Horace’s stomach growled at the thought of dinner. By the gods, he was hungry. Will was a good cook and all, but sharing food between five people didn’t leave a lot left for Horace. 

They were seated at a small table, the hall was mostly empty as it was rather late in the evening. Horace managed to get a seat next to Cassandra, who looked a little nauseous. He assumed that she was nervous and a little guilty about what happened to Cora and what was about to happen in Shal. 

He bumped his shoulder with hers and linked his pinky with hers. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered. 

She nodded, still looking pale, and gave him a small smile. Horace didn’t care that the people around them knew that they were something, they weren’t quite dating yet but they were something, as he trusted them. Halt and Will wouldn’t tell. Cora supported them, and Aila and Theo were the type not to gossip. 

“Can’t believe that MacFrewin sent assassins. Arrogant piece of shit.” Aila spat. 

“You know him?” Cassandra asked. 

Aila nodded, her eyes gaunt. “I do. I would join my mother to speak with his wife from time to time when still in Shal. At one point, I considered marrying his eldest. A good man. Unlike his father.” 

The air in the room became stale. Horace sighed, putting his fork down. “One of the men that attacked us was one of MacFrewin’s sons or grandsons. We have his ring ” 

Aila swore in Pictan. Her face thunderous. Cora put a reassuring hand on her mom’s. “Which one?” She asked. Horace shrugged. He barely even remembered what MacFrewin looked like. 

“All the men that attacked were in their early to mid twenties,” Halt supplied. 

“Must be the youngest or Hamish’s son.” Aila shook her head. “What are you wanting to ask the council to do?” 

Horace shared a look with Cora. Horace didn’t know how Aila would take this. It was a horrible thing to ask to ostracize a Warlord. Baron Theo looked between the two of them with mild interest. 

“We’re going to ask the counsel to ostracize him.” Everyone looked to Halt. He shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. “What? You were taking too long.” 

Horace rolled his eyes. Cassandra looked amused. 

“Really?” Aila asked. 

Horace sighed, staring at his abandoned plate. “Yeah. It’s probably the only way to get MacFrewin to stop. He’s going to keep attacking unless we do something.” 

“You have a point,” Aila agreed. 

“Unfortunately,” Cassandra muttered. 

“Don’t be glum. dear. While ostracization is an extreme example, lots of people take things to council to deal with other warlords. It’s why it’s there. You are far from the first.” 

“I just, I thought I could do this but what if I fuck up and make things worse?” Cassandra asked. 

“We’ll be there advising you as much as possible. Halt and Will will be there to help advise you. And there will be Warmaidens to help you with our customs,” Horace put a hand on her knee. 

“But I’m still going to be the one to speak. The only treaty I’ve helped draft and that was with the Skandians. And well, I don’t have to explain further.” Cassandra waved her hands, nearly hitting Horace. “Sorry.” 

He waved her off. 

“Evanlyn, to be honest, what will happen will be you step to the council and give your case and then Horace or Cora will show the evidence,” Aila explained. 

“Is that true?” Cassandra asked Horace. 

Horace shrugged. “You know as much as I do. These things are rather selective. Warmaidens only. Even McKentick didn’t get invited. We’ll be a special case.” 

“Oh.” Cassandra sighed and stared at her plate. 

“As much as I’d like to talk about our future, that’s all we’ve been doing the past couple of days. Tell me, Baron Theo, are the Skandians still in Mainclaw?” Will asked. 

“Yes, I spoke to Gundar recently. Apparently the boat is finished but it’s a bad time to set sail, so they’re staying until spring. So I’m sure you’ll have a chance to say hello to Nils, Horace.” Baron Theo’s eyes twinkled in amusement. 

“What happened?” Cora asked. 

Horace coloured a little. “I think I called him a shit-stain and threatened to use his helmet as a privy because he wanted to use the tartan as tablecloths.” 

Cora made face at her plate. “He deserved it.” 

“Mhm.” 

“It was very entertaining.” Halt took a swig from his goblet. 

“Expect the bagpipes part. You didn’t enjoy that,” Will pointed out. 

“Yes, thank you for reminding me of that.” Halt glared at Will. 

“Bagpipes?” Cassandra looked over to Horace. 

Horace sighed, putting his face in his hands. “Nils, he uh liberated a bagpipe from McHaddish’s group and decided to learn how to play. He tried to play me out. It didn’t work.” Horace nudged her. She giggled softly. 

“He got some lessons from Reuben McLewis. Not half bad, last saw him.” Aila polished off her drink. 

“You were at Mainclaw?” Horace asked. 

Aila nodded. “Theo and I were there when McKentick brought over the Araluen soldiers. It was good to see him again. Hasn’t changed much.” 

Horace couldn’t help but smile. 

“If you’d excuse me, I think that I’m going to bed if you don’t mind.” Cassandra stood up and headed out of the dining hall. 

Horace started to get out of his seat when Will stopped him. “I’ll go speak with her. Stay and enjoy.” He didn’t feel right letting Will go instead of him but before Horace could stop him. 

“You should be getting some sleep kiddo.” Baron Theo looked over to Cora. 

“I’m not a baby!” Cora whined, then she yawned loudly, glaring at the table, her father’ point having been proven. “Fine. I’ll go to bed. Night mommy. Night daddy.” She kissed both of her parents on the cheek. “Night Horace and Ranger Halt.” 

“Good night Cora,” Halt murmured. Cora spilled brightly at him and Halt indulged in a smile back. Her smile got bigger. 

“Night Cora.” Horace waved goodbye. She waved goodbye and headed out. 

“Good kid,” Halt commented once Cora left. “Raised her well.” 

“She is great. A bit dramatic sometimes but it’s rather entertaining.” Aila sighed. 

“You’re going soft in your old age, Halt,” Baron Theo teased Halt. 

Halt pointedly ignored Baron Theo and finished his meal. “I’m not growing soft. Just commenting. She took a knife for Evanlyn without hesitating. Someone doesn't do that unless they had good parents.” 

Aila smiled at the grim ranger in front of her. “Kind of you to say that, Halt. It means a lot.” 

Halt bowed his head to her. 

Horace put down his fork, his stomach churning in anxiety. He couldn’t believe that he was going home. It was such a weird feeling. “I’m going to bed. I assume I’m in my former room?” 

“Yes, it was prepared for you. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Horace.”

Horace stood up and nodded to the remaining crowd. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you all in the morning.”   
***  
Horace was pulled from his sleep by a small knock at his door. His head felt heavy and thick. The knocking came again. Horace groaned and winced as he slid out from under his warm cover and heads to the door. His bare chest felt like a chunk of ice and his feet froze to the stone floors. 

“Hello?” Horace mumbled, squinting at the small figure in front of him. It was Cassandra. He looked over to the open window, it was pitch black, and back to her. “Is it time?” His voice thick with confusion. 

“No. I just wanted to see you. Sorry for waking you up.” Cassandra’s voice wavered. 

“I’m always here. Door open.” Horace let her in, his eyes still heavy. He closed the door behind her and collapsed onto the bed, wrapping himself up in a blanket to stop himself from shivering. “What’s wrong?” 

“Did you sleep terribly when you were coming to Araluen?”

Horace wished he was sleeping right now. “A little? I couldn’t sleep in Mainclaw. But that’s just because that place is freaky as shit, and the night before. Can’t sleep?” 

Cassandra nodded. “My brain won’t shut up.” 

“I could knock you out but I don’t think Halt would like that.” 

“I don’t think I’d like that.” Cassandra scoffed. 

Horace chuckled and held out an arm. “Come here. Maybe being with another person will calm your brain.” 

“You just want to cuddle.” Cassandra rolled her eyes but came out over to the bed. Horace hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her down to the bed, pulling the covers over them. 

It’d been a while since Horace last had someone to cuddle with him. Cassandra tucked her head under his and tangled her legs with his, wrapping her arms around his chest. Horace pressed a kiss to her temple, pulling her close to him. “You’re warm.” 

“Leech,” she accused. 

“I’m not really that offended. Too cozy,” Horace mumbled. 

“It does feel nice,” she hesitantly agreed. 

“Told you.” 

“Don’t rub it in.” 

Horace laughed and this time she tilted her head up and kiss him. He smiled against the kiss. He liked kissing her. “Want to talk about what’s one your mind?” He asked. 

Cassandra sighed and played with his mother’s ring. “There’s just a lot of pressure. I’m the first Araluen royalty to go to Picta in years to ask for help. If I don’t do this correctly then there goes my whole career. I’m scared.” 

“I get it. I’m the first general to go to Araluen. I was terrified, representing all of my countrymen, half of them I hate. It was a shit show.” 

“How’d you get over that fear?” Cassandra asked. 

Horace hummed softly. “I don’t think I really did. I’m still scared to fuck up. You learn to control it. A good politician and general needs that kernel of fear to hold them in place. Or else they’d turn into my uncle. I guess what I’m trying to say is don’t let it overwhelm you but accept it. Knowing what could happen grounds you in reality.” 

“You’re too philosophical,” Cassandra grumbled. 

“I’m more than just a pretty face.” 

“Yeah, you're an asshole.” 

“Ouch.” Horace sat up and stared at her. Cassandra grinned and stuck out her tongue out at him. “You’ll pay for that.” She squealed as Horace pounced. 

They tousled for a minute and Horace ended up pinning Cassandra to the bed. Chests heaving. Their eyes met and Horace relaxed. Cassandra smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut,” she murmured. 

“Fuck off.” Horace’s tone wasn’t anything malicious. 

“Make me,” Cassandra challenged. 

“Mh, competitive. I like.” Horace’s voice was barely above a whisper as his mouth brushed against against her bare neck. 

“Are you going to continue to wax on about how much you like me or are you going to kiss me?” Cassandra demanded. 

“There’s a thing called being romantic. I’m surprised that you aren’t a bigger fan of it.” Horace nipped at the skin at the corner of her jaw. 

“Just fucking kiss me, Horace.” 

“As milady demands,” Horace teased. She was adorable when she glared at him. He didn’t give her a chance to come back with a snappy retort as he kissed her. That seemed to placate her. 


	13. Chapter 13

It was barely day break when Cassandra woke up. Draped across her was the sleeping body of Horace. He was peaceful looking, the stress of the world gone from his shoulders. His dark and seemingly eternally windswept hair lay sprawled across the pillow. 

Cassandra wiggled a hand free from the embrace and brushed their hair from his eyes. She didn’t know what was going to happen in the future, she wasn’t dumb, she knew that dad had given Horace the choice to go back home once this was over. She overheard him speaking to Halt about this. 

She’d miss him. A lot. It sounded so selfish but she didn’t want him to leave. But if this what he wanted then Cassandra would accept it. She just wanted to know. The suspense racked her. 

Horace stirred in his sleep and blinked heavily at her. “Morning,” he muttered, his eyes closing again and the arms around her tightened. 

“Good morning,” Cassandra said back. 

“Time to go?” Horace asked, sitting up. With his eyes squinted shut and his shoulders hunched over, he looked like a grumpy child who was woken up to do chores. 

“No but I should be getting back to my room. Go back to sleep.” 

“Okay. See you in a bit.” Horace dropped back onto his pillow, almost falling immediately back asleep. Boys. Cassandra shook her head fondly. She kissed his cheek and slid out of bed, grimacing slightly at the cold of the stone before she pulled on her boots. 

She slid out of Horace’s room and headed back to her own room. 

Most northern styled buildings that Cassandra has been in were made of rough stone and heavy wood. It was simple, strong, and, well, Cassandra preferred it. She loved her room and the castle back home but sometimes looking around her was was exhausting, trying to take in all of the small details. Here it was simple and to the point. 

Cassandra wasn’t making sense. She was so tired. Sleep has eluded her for most of the journey. She was so out of shape and she as bruised and tired. She couldn’t think how Cora and Horace felt.

She felt restless, lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling wasn’t doing anything for her. 

Ugh! Cassandra rolled out of bed, bundled herself up and grabbed her sling. Might as well get some practice in. 

The hallways were dark and abandoned, anyone smart would be back in bed or somewhere warm. The cold morning was very reminiscent of Skandia. Piles of snow rose to windows and everything around her white. 

It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. In the main courtyard, by the giant fire that seemed to be eternally lit, was Cora. She was all wrapped up in her tartan. “Hey, Cora, Everything okay?” Cassandra asked. 

Cora nodded. “Yep. Just can’t sleep. I’m excited to go back. I haven’t been to Shal in years!” 

“You’ve been before?” Cassandra asked. 

“Not for several years. Mom used to take me back from time to time but then tensions started to get bed and mom and dad didn’t want to risk it. I miss my grandparents.” 

Must be hard to have family that you can’t see because of politics and be torn between between both homes. Cora put on a brave face but Cassandra could see it affecting her. 

“You want to get some tea from the kitchens and talk? I’d love to hear about Picta.” Cassandra didn’t mind skipping practice. 

Cora’s face brightened and she nodded enthusiastically. She looped her arm with Cassandra’s and pulled her towards the kitchen, which was full of activity. Cora waved over one of the staff and hurriedly said something to one of the staff in Pictan. 

Cora did say that there was a large amount of Scotti decedents living in Norgate. 

Almost within a second, there were two steaming cups of tea and a small plates of breakfast for them. Cassandra didn’t know if she was able to eat. Her stomach hurt so much. Cora gently guided Cassandra over to the dining hall. 

There were a few people having their breakfast, opting for some odd reason to eat here than instead of their rooms. Whatever. 

They sat down at a table in the corner, away from people. The warm tea was a nice comfort in the cold morning. 

“I think apologies are in order for acting the way that I did. I overreacted and it was uncalled for.” Cora wrapped her hands around her mug and stared unhappily at it. 

“While I was very confused, I didn’t think it was that bad. Do you mind me asking what happened?” 

Cora sighed angrily. “It wasn’t towards you. It’s just that, Horace, he got the girl that he liked and he threw it away. Meanwhile the girl that I liked, I never got the chance to say I liked her because she went off and started dating her childhood best friend. I was mad and reacted poorly.” 

“I get it. I’ve been told that I’m not the best when it comes to emotions and that shit.” Cassandra waved her hands. 

Cora giggled softly. “Well, you’ve gotten better. That’s all I will say.” 

“Are you saying that I’m impulsive and bad with managing my emotions? How dare you slander me. I’ll have your head for that. How dare you!” Cassandra mockingly declared. 

“Yes ma’am.” Cora rolled her eyes, they were crinkled in amusement. “I am ever so sorry for painting you in such a terrible light. Please forgive me.” 

They both giggled and then sobered up. They returned to their breakfast. 

Cassandra wasn’t that hungry but she forced herself to at least eat her toast and bacon. 

If Cora got mad at Horace for rejecting Cassandra because of her crush, then why did she avoid Cassandra? It wasn’t like Cassandra was around Horace. He was got for a bit. Off camping with Will. Cassandra spent most of her time with Alyss. 

Oh. 

“You liked Alyss.” 

Cora made a pained expression. “Was I that obvious?” 

“I dunno. I just clued it because you told me. I’d say ask Will but I’m pretty sure that you don’t want to do that. 

“Mostly defiantly don’t.” Cora shook her head. She put down her mostly empty mug and looked around the dinning hall. People were slowly starting to fill in as the day got brighter. 

“What’s your family in Picta like?” Cassandra asked. 

“Oh well, I don't remember much but my grandpa, he’s very loud if that makes sense. Not a bad loud but you’ll notice him when he walks in. He’s loud and fun. Always makes me laugh. My grandmother, she’s a little stoic but that’s just because she’s the official Warmaiden and has to brave face. She loves to dance though. Every Fiveday when the village gets together and has dinner and dancing together, she and granddad are always the first ones dancing. It’s so amazing to watch her dance.” 

“That’s not the dancing with the swords right?” 

Cora shook her head. “No. That’s the traditional dance. It only happens during festivals and stuff like that. We dance just like you guys. It varies, but it’s similar enough that I think that you’d be able to follow along.” 

“I’m not dancing unless I have to.” Cassandra pointed her fork at Cora. 

Cora held her hands up in surrender. “Alright. Alright. There’s also my great-aunt, my grandpa’s sister. She’s a little more chaotic, like grandpa. Quick to anger and, well, any emotion. My great-uncle, he can’t talk, his voice box was broken in a fight against, I forget which clan they were against. He’s big and strong. He could toss me in the air like it was nothing when I was little. It was so much fun. I’ve got some cousins, I guess, on that side of the family. I don’t know much about them. I’m not really close with any of them.” 

“That’s happened to me too. I’ve got cousins that I’m not close to.” Cassandra used to be closed to them when she was younger. It’s where she learnt to use her sling. Then she had to grow up and be a princess. Cassandra hadn’t really seen them in years. 

Cora gave her a sympathetic look. Then her face brightened up as she looked over Cassandra’s shoulder. “Hi Horace!” She waved too, presumably to Horace, over Cassandra’s shoulder. 

Cassandra looked her shoulder. Horace came stumbling over, looking like he just woke up. “Morning,” he mumbled. He slid into the spot next to Cassandra, sliding an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. Cassandra smiled at the sign of affection and attempted to fix his hair. 

“Just because I’m glad to see that you two have figured out your issues, doesn’t mean that I want to see you two act like a gross couple.” Cora sniffled in annoyance. 

“Just because your crush started dating someone else, doesn’t mean you get to be the grumpy old lady who never married,” Horace retorted, while stealing a piece of bacon from her. 

“Was I really that obvious?” Cora whined. Cassandra shook her head. 

“To me at least.” 

Cora made a face. “When did you two become a thing?” She asked. 

Horace looked over to Cassandra, too see if she wanted to take this one. Cassandra shrugged, so Horace turned back to Cora. “Um, it was just a bit before we left. After I get stabbed, I realized that I was an idiot and could die at any time and didn’t want to deny my feelings any more.”

The back of Cassandra’s neck got a little red. 

“You guys are such clichés.” Cora rolled her eyes. 

“Fuck off. You ready to go?” Horace asked. 

Cora shrugged. “I just have a few things that I want to grab. I’m going to go see if mom is ready.” Cora stood up. 

“Right. See you in a bit.” Horace waved goodbye and then stole her plate to finish off. 

“Horace, are you secretly a bear or something?” Cassandra asked, watching him devour the food with mild horror. 

“Nope. But I have been compared to that before.” Horace gave her a dopy little grin. Cassandra rolled her eyes at him. He was being annoyingly cute. “Is everything okay?” 

He was probably referring to last night. 

“Yeah, I’m just nervous.” Cassandra shrugged. 

Horace took one her hands in his. “We’ve still got a day or two, depending on travel time. And in the meantime, you get to be entertained by Nils playing the bagpipes. It’s a sight to see. Or hear.” He frowned in thought. 

Cassandra rolled her eyes fondly. “Come on, we should start heading over to the stables. Don’t want Halt to push you off a horse again.” 

“Smart.” Horace got up from the table and took her hand again. 

It felt freeing up here to be with Horace without the scrutiny of the court on her. Cassandra followed close behind him. 

She wasn’t ready for the bitterness of the outside. She shivered and huddled up to Horace. She could see his eyes dart around the scene for some reason and then pulled her into a small alcove, his chest pressing up to hers and his arms around her waist. “Yes?” She asked, raising a pointed eyebrow at him. 

“Just wanted to say that you’re beautiful.” 

“Sap.” Cassandra felt her cheeks turn red. 

“Aw, you’re blushing.” Horace kissed her neck. Cassandra giggled when he accidentally hit a ticklish spot. 

“Tell me,” Cassandra gasped. “Do you enjoy making me a mess?” 

“Well maybe don’t make it so easy for me,” Horace murmured against her skin. Cassandra tensed up and tried to stop herself from giggling. 

“Truly horrible.” Cassandra pulled his head up and kissed him. His lips were warm in the cold morning. He was just so warm in general. Cassandra wanted to stay tucked close to him forever. She stood on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him better. 

She didn’t want the kiss to end. 

But eventually they did have to break the kiss. “We should probably get going. Don’t want Halt to be angry.” Horace looked disappointed at his own words. 

“I suppose.” Cassandra sighed. 

He took her hand and smiled. He smiled a lot more. It warmed Cassandra’s heart. He looked so broken when she first knew him. “I can’t wait to show you my home.”   
“Do you mean your home home or town?” Cassandra asked. 

“Both I guess. It’s a fair amount smaller than Araluen city but it’s quaint.” Horace looked a little nervous, like she was going to judge his home. 

“It sounds lovely,” Cassandra assured him. Her heart melted at how his face lit up. “I’m going to run to my room and I’ll meet you at the stables?” 

“Sounds good.” She barely felt the butterfly kiss that he gave her. 

He’d become so much more open in affection. Honestly, that’s what shocked Cassandra the most. She wasn’t complaining, she liked it. It was just strange to think that the closed off and guarded soldier she first met would seize any opportunity to kiss her and hold her hand. 

Cassandra hurried to her room and grabbed her small traveling pack. She didn’t bring much, as they were traveling light. She grabbed the pack that was sitting on the edge of her bed and made sure that she has everything before leaving. 

At this point the sun had broken through and it was truly morning but still cold. Cassandra pulled her cloak over herself and hurried to the stables. 

She didn’t get a chance to speak to Horace as the Halt and Will joined them in the stable. 

“Ready to go?” Halt asked Cassandra and Horace. Horace nodded, dropping his pack and shield on the ground and turned to start saddling up his horse. 

Cassandra started to do the same. “Yeah. Just have to saddle Rosie.” She gestured her horse. 

“Now where are the Baroness and her daughter.” 

“Careful Halt. Aila isn’t scared of you or you black magic. One snappy tone towards her and she’ll break you arm.” Horace sounded way too cheerful for his threat. 

“That would suck, Halt, seeing how having both of your arms is the main reason why Duncan keeps you around!” Will chimed in. 

“I’ll show you what I’m good at,” Halt threatened Will, stomping over to his stall. Will shrieked with laughter. Cassandra shook her head and finished saddling Rosie when Aila and Cora walked in. 

“Sorry for keeping you Ranger, I was just double checking that I have everything,” Aila apologized. 

“It’s alright,” Halt sniffed and turned back to Abelard. 

“Oh sure. When she does it, it’s all fine and dandy. But when I do it, I get thrown in a river.” Will shook his head. 

“There’s a certain grace to it, Ranger.” Aila eyed Will amusement while going to a stall.

Cassandra lead Rosie out of her stall just after Horace. She caught him in conversation with Baron Theo in Pictan. So she didn’t understand a word they were saying. She stood awkwardly, waiting. 

Soon the rest came out and Cassandra was able to get up on Rosie without it being weird. 

“Be careful. All of you.” Baron Theo sounded distraught. He looked like dad when they left. Both of them sent of their remaining family off into the unknown.   
  
“Of course dear.” Aila embraced her husband. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I know. I can’t help but worry.” 

“Don’t worry Baron. Your wife and daughter will be safe with us. And the Skandians. You know how fierce they are. And the McAngus clan.” Will leaned on Tug’s head and flashed his well known smile. He caught Cassandra’s eye and winked. 

Will was a life saver, he always knew what to say to her when she freaked out. He was the only one that’s she confessed that she was upset to think that Horace might stay in Picta and not come back with her. Will pointed out last night it would be stupid for Horace to kiss her again and then leave her. He had known at that point that he could stay in Picta when he had kissed her. So he could have just not done it. 

Cassandra didn’t know. She should talk to Horace about it. But there was much more pressing matters to deal with before her emotions and her relationship status. 

She bit the inside of her lip as she waved goodbye to Baron Theo and followed Halt out of the courtyard. Onto the last leg of the journey.   
***  
Despite its gloomy state, Mainclaw was a welcoming view. Cassandra was almost frozen to Rosie. The others were in various statues of near-collapse. It was dark and god and the wind was biting. Part of Cassandra wanted to set up shelter, just to get out of the wind, but she realized that Halt was right. Mainclaw would provide warmth and Horace and Cora would need more than just a small tent for them to feel better. Horace, ever the soldier, didn’t look like his injury was bothering him that much, despite him breaking him down to her when in private that it hurt so badly. 

Cora on the other hand, looked down right miserable. She was hunched over her horse with her hood pulled over so that no one could see her face. She let out a sob when she saw Mainclaw. 

The ride took so long as they couldn’t set out on a rigorous pace in fear that Cora or Horace would pull their stitches. Thankfully, they were waved in without hesitation. 

There seemed to be a sigh of relief between all of them when they hit the warm stables. Horace was first off his horse and groaned as he stretched out. He held out a hand to Cora to help her down. She winced when she hit the ground and clutches her side. 

“You two should go see the medic before we cross over to Picta.” Halt’s angry looked softened. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She used to be one of the only ones to get that look. 

“After dinner,” Horace protested. 

Halt gave Horace terse look. He turned to Will. “Can you send a message to Malcom to come?” 

Will shook his head. “Malcom doesn’t like leaving after dark. We could set out later tomorrow. It’ll give us some time to scout ahead.” 

“You don’t think the border is safe?” Aila asked, narrowing her eyes at Will and Halt. Cassandra dismounted Rosie and lead her to the closest stall. 

“I am not saying it isn’t. I just want to make sure.” 

“Better to be over-prepared than under-prepared.” Will shrugged. 

Aila looked impressed with them. Cassandra felt a small stab of pride at that. “That is very true. I agree with Will then. We can set out later in the afternoon after Cora and Horace see Malcom.” 

“I don’t want to be camping out in the open. Last I remember there weren’t many places for a party of five to camp off of the trail.” 

“There’s paths that go off the main road that go right home. It takes half a day,” Horace piped up. 

“Fine. Come on. I’m hungry,” Halt grumbled. 

A stable hand came running in to the small stables. “General sir! Good to see you!”

Horace smiled tiredly. “It’s good to see you too. Good to be back.” 

“Did you ride in this weather?” The stablehand asked. Horace shrugged and the man looked horrified. “Go, go, go get some food and warmth. I will take care of your horses and will have your things taken care of.” 

Cassandra looked over Halt for his lead. He just looked defeated. “Take care of our horses but leave our things here.” 

“Yes sir!” 

Cassandra sighed in relief and left Rosie’s stall. Horace clapped him on the shoulder and headed out, Cassandra hurried after him and took his head. She looked over her shoulder and caught Halt’s eye. He raised an eyebrow at her and despite the cold weather, Cassandra’s face got hot. Guess she should talk to him about her and Horace soon. 

“You okay?” Horace asked. 

“I’m hungry.”   
  
“You’re starting to sound like me.” Horace knocked his shoulder against hers. Cassandra responded by rolling her eyes fondly. 

They were treated by a solemn looking man at the entrance of the dinning hall. “Lord Orman. Good to see you.” Horace dropped Cassandra’s hand held it out for a handshake. She didn’t like the look of him. Something about him just made Cassandra’s hair stand on edge. She was glad that Horace was taking the lead. 

“You too General. I wish it was under better circumstances and better weather.” Lord Orman cast a glance to the weather above them. What had Halt told him? “We were expecting you earlier. You disappointed Nils.” 

“He can live. We have an injured party.” Horace looked over to Cora who was disappearing into her cloak. 

“Yes, yes. Come in. Food will be brought quickly. Baroness, good to see you. Rangers.” Lord Orman nodded to all of them. There was some hurried responses, no one really wanted to stay and chat. 

Cassandra all but hurried over to a table. She was exhausted and tired, and just wanted food. Horace and Will collapsed next to her. She didn’t care what was going on. She just wanted food.   
***  
After dinner they all went to bed, all of them were too tired to talk and socialize. Once again Cassandra couldn’t sleep. The large room was cold and dark and honestly it scared her a little. And there was times where she closed her eyes and she could see Horace on the ground, bleeding out and she was helpless to do anything. She couldn’t stand the dreams. She wanted Horace. He was a great big teddy bear. She groaned and sat up, tugging her boots on. She closed her door quietly and slipped down the hall and knocked on Horace’s door. She bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to open the door. 

The quietly scraped open and a sleeping looking Horace appeared. His face brightened he saw her. He draped himself against the door jamb and smirked. “We really have to stop meeting like this.” 

“Sorry. I can’t sleep.” 

“Nervous?” Horace asked. 

Cassandra sniffled. “Yeah, plus this place freaks me out a little. Do you mind?” 

“None at all. I like having someone that I can cuddle with.” Horace yawned and closed the door behind her. 

Cassandra sat on the bed pulled off her boots. “Why’s that?” She asked, curling up under the colours. She could barely trace his features, the moon was barely coming through the window. 

“Not sure. It’s just nice. To know you’re not alone. Plus extra heat in the winter.” 

“Pragmatic,” Cassandra commented. The bed dipped a little when Horace climbed on. A second later, she felt his arms around her. 

“Always am,” Horace muttered, kissing her shoulder. 

“Hm. Night.” 

“Night princess.”


	14. Chapter 14

The morning seemed lax, at least for Cassandra. She woke up early to late morning, Horace was already gone, probably off to see Malcom, so Cassandra met with Aila for breakfast and then parted ways.   
  
She packed up what little she had taken out and left her pack in Rosie’s stall. She didn’t want Halt to be mad at her. While in the stall, Cassandra brushed down Rosie and gave her an apple before leaving, trying to find something to do. 

“Evanlyn.” Halt appeared beside her. 

Cassandra cursed in annoyance and stumbled back. “Stop doing that.” 

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Is this about Horace?” Cassandra asked. She knew it was stupid but it was the first thing her mind went for. Halt shrugged, his face not betraying any emotion. “Look Halt. Nothing you can tell me, I haven’t thought of before. Alright, I get that it’s probably not a good idea because he’s Scotti and I’m Araluen. People at court will talk, etc, etc. But I—” 

“He’s a good man, kid.” That shut Cassandra up. Halt pressed on. “You couldn’t ask for someone better to look after your back. But he’s not used to us. My advice is to speak with him. And possibly your father. I know that you don’t want to but he might be able to help.” 

“Oh, okay. I want to but there’s more important things to do currently.” 

“Your emotions are important too. If you go into a meeting with your emotions out of control, it won’t end well.” 

“Okay, you have a point.” 

“Don’t tell that to him, he’ll get a big head. The gods know that won’t end well.” Aila approached them and gave Halt a rueful look. Halt returned it but Cassandra could see his amusement. 

Cassandra didn’t know what to think of the older woman. Aila seemed reserved and didn’t pay Cassandra much mind which infuriated her. Which was stupid because Cassandra knew that not everyone had to like her. She just likes the attention. Aila seemed to be what Cassandra thought a mom would be. Strong and willing to move heaven and earth for her daughter. And Horace. Cassandra didn’t get their relationship. 

But it was sweet because she knew that Horace didn’t have his mom. 

“How are the kids?” Halt asked. 

“Malcom cleared them for travel but it doesn’t matter as we need to keep moving anyway.” Aila frowned. Cassandra didn’t want to push either of them. She’d rather stay here and make sure they heal faster than go out on the road. 

“Good. Let’s get going.” 

“Are you ever going to relax?” Cassandra asked. 

“I’ll relax when we’re in the safety of the clan. In the middle of a protected village.” 

“And you can’t relax in the middle of a fortified fort? Filled with Skandians. Speaking of which, where are they?” Cassandra asked, looking around. 

“Probably looking to torment Horace.” Aila smiled. “Oh, never mind. Hello Gundar.” She waved to a burly man approaching them. 

“Ah, Barnoness! Lovely to see you again and looking lovely as ever.” The burly man dramatically bowed and kissed Aila’s hand. 

“Gundar, ever the charmer.” 

“I try ma’am.” Gundar looked over to ranger and his face went a weird blank. “Ranger.” 

Halt rose an eyebrow at Gundar. 

“And this is?” 

“This is Lady Evanlyn. She is traveling with us to Picta,” Aila introduced them. 

“Ah. Evanlyn. Yes, the young woman who’s good friends with the ranger Will. Skandia’s favourite heroine.” Gundar nodded knowingly. Cassandra flushed under the praise. That might mean that he knew who she was. 

“Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cassandra smiled brightly at him. 

“So if two Rangers, an esteemed lady, a general, and a baroness are traveling to Picta. Does that mean that something’s wrong in Picta?” Gundar frowned. They hadn’t told many people what the true reason why they were going, and Cassandra didn’t know how Halt wanted to handle it.

“While I respect what you’ve done with for Araluen, Gundar but there are some things that we have to keep close to the vest,” Halt told him. 

“That’s fair.” Gundar didn’t seemed fazed. “But if you need us, we’re here. We’re all loyal to Will. He saved our lives.” 

“And Nils seems particularly attached to Horace,” Aila added. 

“Nils!” Cassandra could hear Horace yell across the courtyard. Everyone looked over to the sound of the commotion. Horace was pointing to a maniac looking man holding a set of bagpipes. “If you even think about it, I will shit in your helmet.” 

Everyone watched with bated breath as Nils took in a deep breath and a screech filled their ears. Cassandra covered her ears and watched as Horace chased Nils across the courtyard, the sound rising and falling as Nils continued to breath into the bagpipe as he ran. 

Horace wasn’t able to catch up to Nils as halfway through, he grabbed his side, cursing at Nils. He flipped off the man and came over to the small group. 

“You okay?” Cassandra asked, slipping an arm around his waist and couldn’t help but worry. 

“I’m fine. Just a little sore,” he assured her. 

“What happened to ya?” Gundar asked. 

“Got stabbed.” 

Gundar shook his head. “I’m not sure what I expected.” Horace chuckled at him. 

“Where’s Cora?” Aila asked. 

“She went back to her room to lie down for a bit. Both of us are ready to go at any time. Will is taking Malcom back currently. We’re just waiting.” 

Halt nodded. “Ahead of schedule, good. Aila, why don’t you go check on Cora. Horace, go bring your things to the stalls so when Will gets back we can have a quick lunch and then we can head out.” 

“Right.” 

“I’ll join you.” Cassandra squeezed his side.

“Alright. See you guys in a bit.” Horace waved goodbye. Cassandra waved goodbye and headed back inside. “You sleep okay?” 

Cassandra nodded. “Missed you this morning.” 

“Sorry. Had to go get poked by a healer. I’m here now.” Horace pulled her to his side and kissed her temple. Cassandra smiles at the sign of affection. 

“You seem excited.”

“Wouldn’t you be excited to go back to your home? Not to mention, I’ve a whole cottage full of things that I miss.” 

“Yeah? I thought that you soldier types were supposed to be minimalistic and shit.” 

Horace hoarsely laughed. “I suppose I am but if being honest, I shared my home with Isla. She likes to decorate. Much like Cora in that sense. Barged in and decorated.” 

He didn’t speak much about Isla to her. Cassandra didn’t want to worry, she trusted Horace but she just got a strange feeling when talked about her. He always got a nostalgic smile when talking about her. She didn’t care before but now it, it just felt strange. 

“She’s McKentick’s niece right?” 

“Yeah. My oldest friend. Her mom helped McKentick take care of me. In her words, ‘there is no way that an eternal bachelor can take care of a ten year old’. I split my time between the two homes.” Horace pushed open the door to his room. 

“There’s nothing between you two is there?” Cassandra asked, sitting on the bed. 

“With Isla?” Cassandra nodded. “No.” Horace shook head. That made her feel better. Horace was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t really one of them. But he was good at withholding certain things though. Well, Cassandra was going to be seeing it for herself soon enough. 

She slid off of the bed, and grabbed his shield as Horace shouldered the pack. She fixed him with a glare when he tried to protest. She was going to help. Horace shrugged it off and they left. 

“General! You aren’t going to murder me are ya?” Nils, or what Cassandra believed to be Nils appeared at the end of the hall. 

“I’m too tired to, Nils. I thought you got lessons.” Horace looked disappointed at him. 

“Ah well. Not everythin’ works in a linear way. Need some help? Heard you got stabbed recently.” Nils asked. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Alright.” Nils shrugged and walked with them. “And who's this pretty lady?” 

“Evanlyn.” Cassandra held out a hand. 

“Lovely to meet you dear.” Nils nodded hello. “You going back home?” 

“Just for a little bit.” Did that mean he was coming back? Cassandra felt a little giddy at the thought. 

“Well I hope that whatever happens, it works out quickly for ya man.” 

“Thanks, Nils.”   
***  
Halt hurried them out once Will returned from scouting and told them the case was clear. There was hurried goodbyes and thank yous to Lord Orman as they left. And just as they thought that they were clear, there was a loud wail of the bagpipes. Cassandra saw Horace put his face in his hands and his shoulders started shaking. 

Aila and Cora, who was looking better and less pale, looked mildly disturbed. 

“I’m going to kill him!” Horace wheezed.

“He’s not bad. It’s a hard instrument,” Cora tried to defend but she started laughing too. 

“I applaud his enthusiasm but perhaps he ought not to,” Aila sighed. 

“Ah, he just wants to show his love towards Horace.” Will grinned at Horace. Horace gave him a dirty look. “It’s true romance.” 

“I’m going to push you off of Tug,” Horace weakly threatened. 

“Oooh, terrified.” Will waved his hands dramatically. Cassandra smiled when she saw Halt’s annoyed look. 

“Hurry up, please. The lot of you,” Halt grumbled.   
***  
Picta didn’t look much different to Cassandra. It looked just like Norgate. It was snowy and covered in trees. She shivered and pulled her cloak further around her. After riding for a bit on the deserted main path which Horace frowned deeply at, they stopped and Horace went snooping around the trees and then waved them over. Cassandra hasn’t seen Horace in his war paint and full armour since he first came to Araluen. He looked hot. 

Will frowned, “I didn’t see this while scouting.” 

“It’s supposed to be well hidden. We don’t like it when non-clan members know a shortcut to our home.” Horace scowled a little.

“Good point.” 

“It should be guarded. Same with the border. I’m honestly shocked.” Horace looked troubled. Cassandra’s hand drifted to the saxe that was attached to her saddle. Halt noticed and held up a hand. Cassandra stopped going for her knife.   
  
“I believe that with the loose and unofficial treaty with people of Mainclaw, the border has been left unprotected as a show of trust.” Aila sighed but shook her head. “Though, I do think that leaving this unguarded is a little problematic.” 

“Maybe there’s just a shift change?” Cora supplied. 

Horace shook his head. “If there was one, there’d be double the guard.”

“They might have pulled the guard farther back, away from the main path so that we aren’t offended,” Will offered an explanation. 

“Either way, I’m not a fan of this. Evanlyn, Cora, and Aila, stay in the middle of the line, Will take the end and cover our backs. Horace you lead us. Stay sharp,” Halt ordered. 

Horace nodded and got back onto Kicker started moving on. Halt followed and everyone got into line. 

The ride was long and slow as they didn’t want to rush into things. The woods were deadly silent and Cassandra lived in the woods long enough to know that no animal noises meant the presence of people. 

Horace noticed her aggravated mood and she mentioned the animals. He shook his head. “The woods have been over-hunted and this has been more else the main battle ground. The woods have been silent for over a year. It doesn't bode well for hunting season.” 

“If this goes well, I’ll speak with dad about sending food to help.” Cassandra got that the Scotti had limited amount of food and the war and taking care of the soldiers took a large toll on their food stock. Araluen had more than enough food to spare some as thanks for taking care of their people.

Horace nodded and turned back the front of the path. 

In the distance, Cassandra heard movement. Like men running towards them. Her hand shot down to her knife. She heard the other go for their weapons too. Halt pulled out a black shafted arrow and lay it on his bow. It wasn’t drawn but there for easy access. Halt didn’t seem worried, but he never seemed worried. 

Horace held up his hand and then urged a nervous Kicker forward. “I am General Altman of McAngus clan escorting Warmaiden Evanna and her party. Whomever you may be, I suggest you let us past.” 

The woods were silent as Horace let out a silent curse in Pictan and went for his sword. 

“Boss?” A man in Scotti armour and blue war paint appeared out of the woods. He stared at Horace wide eyes and then his face broke into a smile, cackling as he held out his hands. “Boss! Ay! Good to see ya! Thought I wouldn’t see your dirty mug for a while.”

Horace slid from Kicker and held out his arms to the man. “Murray you asshole. You got promoted!”   
  
“Well duh. Since you got promoted, a few of us got promotions too. I'm the captain of the city guard. Got some good Araluen fellas who stayed joining me. Fraser got your old position. Think McKentick misses you as his right hand man though. Uh, Kian is, I think, technically one of your colonels. Same with Lachlan? McKentick have taken over your duty while you’ve been away. So, it’s a shit show,” Murray gabbed on in decent Araluen. The soldiers must have taught it to the people.   
  
Cassandra smiled a little at the man. He was excited. He looked like he was happy to have Horace back. His smiled dropped when Halt coughed and rose an eyebrow at them. 

“I guess that you must be dealing with something serious if you’re escorting the Warmaiden.” His eyes slid through party and then over to Aila. She waved. 

“Yeah,” Horace scoffed. “Good to see you. Pressing matters. I’d like to get out of the woods if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh yeah. One second.” Murray turned to the woods and whistled. A couple seconds later, a horse trotted out. “I’ll escort you to the entrance but I can’t stay for long, I have to get back to patrolling.” 

“So you do patrol these woods on a regular bases.” Halt looked interested. 

“No offence sir, but I don’t exactly trust you folk with this information. Even if you are with a Warmaiden.” Murray looked to Horace for his response. Horace gave him a little nod. 

“Two actually.” Aila gestured to a silent Cora who just waved.

“Ah.” Murray seemed to be connecting the dots too. He looked at Cassandra curiously but didn’t ask. She watched as he climbed onto his horse and fall into line with Horace, as the path widened. 

“So, some Araluens decided to stay?” Horace asked. 

“Yeah, guess that some of the men found true love and didn’t want to leave. Or they just don’t have anyone back in Araluen. No one really cares. We need all the hands we can get it. It’s going to be a rough couple of seasons for us.” 

“Were you in that group that took the soldiers back to Mainclaw?” Cassandra asked. 

Murray looked over his shoulder to her, a shock of bright bright red hair fell out of his helmet, and nodded. “Yes ma’am. Those who wanted to leave got to leave. Grim place that fort is, same with the lord. Nice enough. Gave back the cloaks and the rings from MacHaddish’s group.” 

“Yeah that’s because Horace threaten to use one of the Skandian’s helmets as a privy if they did it! Made my day.” Will piped up from the back. 

“Is that true boss?” Murray asked.

“Not quite. I quite nicely told him that using the cloaks as a table cloth was similar to using their helmets as a privy. It’s the asshole with the bagpipes. You saw him?” 

Murray snorted in laughter. “Aye. I know him. Few of us tried to give him some lessons. May Lunas look after him when he goes back because he’s going to need it.” 

Horace agreed. 

The pace started to quicken and in the distance, Cassandra could see a large wall up the side of what seemed to be a small mountain or a large hill. To her right, she could see snow covered fields that spanned into the horizon. They looked untouched and a little wild. Most manpower had been pulled from the fields. 

Cassandra could see outposts along the hill up to the village that was occupied by soldiers. Horace noticed them too and stopped his horse. Everyone else stopped. 

“Halt, I think you need to shoulder your bow. I don’t want anyone to perceive us as a threat. Aila, Cora, come to the front. If they see a Warmaiden, they’ll relax.” 

“Good point.” Halt put away his bow as Aila and Cora moved to the front. 

Horace sighed, and they started up again. Cassandra had to resist the urge to hold onto her knife or sling for comfort under the gaze of the soldiers who were guarding the road and the fortified wall. “How does settlement work here? Does everyone live in one big village? Or am I just completely wrong.” Cassandra asked. 

“There’s a few bigger towns along the borders that have a settlement of guards to protect the border. Mostly on the MacFrewin side. The MacArthur side, we’ve been peaceful with them for years. There is a trading town ther,e is there not?” Aila looked to Horace. 

“Yes. There’s also been a discovery of iron there, so we have been mining together for a couple of years.” Horace didn’t take his eyes off the guards. “We don’t usually have small villages as they tend to get raided often.” 

That’s fair. 

Murray waved them through once they got to the top and sighed. “This is how far I go. I assume you know your way around, boss.” 

“I’ve been gone for a couple of months Murray. Not two years.” 

“No need to bite. See you later boss.” Murray waved and then trotted off. 

“If you all follow me.” Horace waved to an older looking man as they trotted through. 

Cassandra felt like she was going to faint. Her head was swimming and her stomach rolled. She didn’t eat much this morning and it was starting to catch up to her. She gripped Rosie’s reins as she looked around, trying to distract herself. 

The town itself was large, houses crawled their way up to hillside and into the forest that was seemingly taking over the town. People stopped and stared at the small party made its way through. The whole town seemed to be built around a large square. Castle Norgate had a rather similar structure to it. A series of buildings making up the space around the square. They also had a large fire pit with a flickering fire in the middle square. 

The grand and large house that stood directly across the entrance of the square was probably the Warlord’s house. It looked well maintained and the oldest. It was probably the most defended if there was an attack on the town. Cassandra’s future lay in that man’s house And the large hall with the doors standing wide open with a few men and women milling in out would be the dining hall where they’d have dinners and dances together.

Horace led them to the stables and passed the reins to his stableboy so that he could help Cora down. She smiled brightly and looked around the square in excitement. Cassandra wished that she had the same excitement. 

She got off Rosie and passed it to someone else. She looked to Horace who seemed to be hesitating on what to do. Guess he didn’t prepare this far. 

“There’s tall fellow heading our way. He was one of the Generals with us last time,” Will muttered.

Horace looked over his shoulder and his face brightened. He looked like a child on their birthday. “McKentick!” 

The man approaching them, a tall older man with long greying rust coloured hair and beard, broke into tired smile. “Good to see you, my boy. Couldn’t believe my ears when I heard you were coming back.” He pulled Horace into a hug. 

Cassandra shared a painful look with Cora. She didn’t know what to say. This seemed like a personal moment for Horace. 

Both clapped each other on the back and broke the hug. McKentick looked over to Aila. “Good to see you, dear. Your father will be over the moon to see you and your daughter. Though, I am wondering why the rangers are here.” 

Father?

“I think this is a matter we best be discussed in private with the Warlord,” Halt said quietly, passing the satchel of evidence to Horace. 

McKentick’s eyes slid over the group, pausing at Cassandra, assessing the situation. “Yes, I do believe that is a good idea. If you follow me.” He turned around and marched to the big house. 

Horace took Cassandra’s hand. She didn’t mean to grip his hand tightly but her heart was in her throat. She was terrified. Fucking terrified. She’s heard descriptions of Warlords’ tempers. She didn’t want that to happen. Will flanked Cassandra’s side and winked. He had her back. They all did. Even Cora. 

She could do this. She took a deep breath and followed after Cora, Aila, and McKentick. 

The door to the Warlord’s house burst open and on instinct, Cassandra hid behind Horace’s massive build. Both Will and Halt’s hands went to their belt. 

“Aila!” Someone boomed. 

Cassandra peeked out from behind Horace. A man with the same build as Will, slender but with underlying muscles, who was bald with a moustache and pointed beard, came bursting out of the house. 

Aila rolled her eyes at him. “Hi dad. I see you’ve been as loud as ever.” 

“Haha! You’re back!” He tackled her into a hug. Aila grunted but hugged, apparently, her father back. 

Cassandra looked to Horace in confusion. “Dad?” She whispered. 

“Shit. Sorry, I thought you figured it out. We’ve all got the same tartan,” Horace apologized. Cassandra looked over to Cora and Aila and then over to Horace. Shit. They did. Man, she was blind. 

“Is that why you’re so close with them?” Cassandra asked. Now it was starting to make sense. Why Aila acted like such a mother to Horace sometimes and why Horace was so protective of Cora. 

“Yeah, Aila knew my mom and McAngus asked me to watch over Cora. He’s not going to be happy. I’m fucked.” All Cassandra could do was give his hand a little squeeze and turned back to McAngus. 

An older woman with silver hair who looked very similar to Aila came out and was kissing Cora hello. McAngus broke the hug with his daughter and turned to Cora. “Ah my little darling! It’s been years. You’ve grown so much. Look at you!” He cupped her face and frowned. “You look pale. Is everything alright?” 

Will eyes Horace who looked terrified. 

“I’m fine seanair. Just got stabbed a little. But I’m healing! I’m fine!” Cora grimaced. 

“What?” McAngus shouted, turning to Horace. “One thing I asked you, Altman. One thing. And that was to look after my granddaughter.” He surged towards Horace, who reverted from his General stance to a scared little boy, and McKentick had to tackle him back. It seemed to take all of McKentick’s strength to do so. “One thing!” 

Aila pulled her daughter out of her father’s rage zone. Cora’s grandmother was trying to intervene and calm her husband down but he just seemed to be getting angrier, shouting insults at Horace, switching back to Pictan.

Shit. There was the famous temper. 

“I ought to rip your head off!” McAngus yelled in Araluen, drawing attention to the small crowd. Cassandra grimaced and hid behind Horace. 

“Enough!” Cora yelled, brushing off her mother’s arms and glaring at her grandfather. Her grandfather seemed to go limp in McKentick’s arms. Everyone stared at her. Her cheeks coloured at the attention she was getting. “Stop blaming Horace. I knew the risks when I saw the princess getting attacked! So stop blaming him. He has been kicking himself over this because you put this on over his head. So stop it! You’re being very unfair.” 

“You daughter is right sir. Horace himself was injured in the attack while trying to save your granddaughter sir,” Will tried to defend Horace who was just taking the abuse. 

McAngus stared at Horace then to Will and then back to Horace. “You killed the assholes who attacked my baby?” He demanded.

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” 

Cassandra sighed and stepped out from behind Horace. She needed to take responsibility. “If anything, Warlord sir, I’m the one to blame. Cora took the knife that was meant for me. Please don’t blame Horace. Blame me.” 

McAngus looked like he was smacked in the face with a shield. “Perhaps sir, we should move this inside, away from prying eyes,” McKentick muttered. 

“Fine. All of you inside!” McAngus ordered and then stomped towards the house.   
They tracked towards the house. Cora cast a nervous look to a defeated Horace but followed her mother and grandparents into the house. 

McKentick sighed and shook his head. “What shit did you get yourself into Horace?” 

“Blame MacFrewin. He pulled this bullshit,” Horace snarled. 

“Fuck. Of course it was him. Because we can’t have anything nice.” McKentick sighed, rubbing his forehead and headed inside. 

Horace closed his eyes and sighed. “Thank you Cassie. You didn’t have to.” He looked down to her, his face softening into a smile. 

“Bold move.” Halt rubbed is beard in thought. 

“I had too. Or else he’d rip Horace’s head off!” Cassandra gestured to Horace in a panic. “Besides, it was my fault. Not Horace. He didn’t push Cora or anything.” 

“He’s just worried. He hasn’t seen Cora in seven years and the first time he sees her after the war was her injured. I understand his anger. Now, let’s go before we get yelled at again. I’d like to keep my title as a General.” Horace waved to the house. 

“Right, come on.” Halt headed the house. 

They got ushered into a living room off to the side. It was massive. It had tall with intricate arches and the room was just covered in a red-brown wood. The far wall with a crackling fire place was made of round river stones. There was fur rug that all of the sofas and armchairs faced around and a coffee table in the middle of the rug. Hanging above was an iron wheel that had lamps hanging off it. They were currently unlit as the giant windows with thick dark green curtains provided much needed light. 

Cassandra made a face at the bear head that had been mounted to the wall. A mis-match of tapestries that were Gallican and Araluen style hung around the room, making it feel a little warmer. 

Cora and her mother were sitting on a sofa, Cora’s grandmother was going all mother-hen on them and Cora seemed to enjoy the attention. She gladly accepted the tea cup that her grandmother passed to her. 

McAngus paced in front of the fire place angrily. She didn’t like that look so she looked to Horace for help. He put a hand on her shoulder and gestured for her to sit. Cassandra sat but everyone else didn’t. Suddenly she felt like she should be standing. 

McKentick stood near McAngus looking worried. 

“Explain!” McAngus snarled, pointing to Horace. 

Horace stepped into the small circle and sighed. “A couple of weeks ago, the Rangers reported that there was a small hunting party of Scotti warriors that slipped into Araluen. We weren’t really sure what to do, since the war ended, they might be peaceful. But the king and I didn’t truly believe that. We thought that they might be assassins from one of the Warlords who didn’t want the war to end.” 

“Why do you think that this is MacFrewin?” McKentick asked.   
  
Cassandra watched as Horace put down the satchel and pulled out the cloaks. Aila grimaced at the sight of them. 

“Shit.” McKentick put his face in his hands. McAngus looked murderous. 

“Cora wasn’t a target. We’re pretty sure that they were trying to either kill me, the king, or Princess Cassandra. The king sent a ranger to follow them and they made their way to Castle Araluen. There was a party being held the night they attacked. We were sweeping the room to find them but there were too many people. Cora,” Horace tailed off and gestured to her. 

“I saw the knife and I saw that Princess Cassandra didn’t see him. He would have killed her if I didn’t act. I didn’t want another war between my homes.” Cora looked up to her grandfather. 

“I will murder him!” McAngus snarled. 

“Dear, calm down. Let Horace explain,” Cora’s grandmother softly ordered. 

“I heard the screams after Cora was attacked, someone who we asked to help us got me and the rest was a blur if being honest. I think I got most of them. The princess got one too. Same with Will.” Horace gestured over to Cassandra and Will. 

“And now you’re here,” Cora’s grandmother supplied. 

“Yeah.” Horace sighed and sat next to Cassandra. She put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Horace got injured too. It was pretty bad.” Cora fiddled with her mug. 

McAngus’ face darkened. He sighed aggressively. “I suppose that I should be apologizing “ 

“Don’t, sir. It makes me feel uncomfortable.” Horace made a face. McAngus snorted and shook his head. 

“So what do you wish to do?” Cora’s grandmother asked. 

“Cora and Horace told us about asking the council to ostracize MacFrewin. I understand that it’s a big thing to ask but we have come to a conclusion that we don’t think that they’ll stop trying to attack my father and I,” Cassandra pleaded. 

“They attacked my granddaughter and my General in peace time. And a princess who had little to do with this war! They ought to be! They have broken the treaty and put my people at risk!” 

“Dad!” Aila snapped, getting her father to shut up. McAngus huffed and crossed his arms. 

McKentick frowned. “Do you think, Evanna, that they have enough evidence to plead this case?” He asked. 

Evanna pursed her lips. “The fact that the princess has come herself to plead will help. Along with Cora and Horace’s testimony. The cloaks enough won’t be though.” Evanna gave Cassandra a bit of praise. 

“There’s more, unfortunately,” Halt pitched in. 

McAngus’s eyebrows went up. 

Horace pulled out the small pouch of rings and handed it to Evanna. “There’s a ring from McFrewin’s family in there. I don’t recognize the others. Not to mention those fancy daggers that they’ve been prancing around. I know it’s shaky and maybe ostracization isn’t the answer but there has to be something to something.” 

“He won’t be able to get away, I will be able to tell you this. I don’t know if I can get ostracization but I can get something. Could you give me some time?” Evanna sighed and looked at one of the rings. 

“Of course, thank you ma’am.” Horace bowed. 

Cassandra stood up and bowed. “Thank you. I know I can’t ask much but thank you so much.” 

“You’re not the asshole who butchered my men. Honestly, you can ask a lot more.” McAngus spared her a smile. Well that made her feel a little better but Cassandra looked over to Horace, this was his conversation. Horace faltered under that comment. Did he not want to share this. His uncle wasn’t him. His crimes weren’t Horace’s. 

“The lord, sorry former lord, who was responsible is facing his crimes back in Araluen.” Thank you, Halt. 

“Is that so?” Evanna asked. 

“Yes, the problem that my father ran into while trying to bring him to justice was that he was the lord of an estate that when they agreed to join Araluen was that the lord was immune to the King’s law. Frustrating and stupid I know. But that’s changing.”

“How?” McKentick frowned, crossing his arms. McAngus started pacing again. 

“Horace, actually,” Will piped up. 

Everyone looked too Horace. Cassandra rubbed his back to calm him down. He looked like he was going to hurl. 

“Did any of you know that my father was a lord before he came here?” Horace asked quietly. 

It was clear that McAngus and Evanna didn’t. Same with Aila. McAngus shook his head as he paced. “No. We didn’t. All I remember was that Aldwin showed up, bloody and alone, pleading for a place to stay. He spoke about how his brother had stabbed him and would never give up. So he did what he thought was best and left Araluen. Seemed like a decently fellow. Gave him a chance. Don’t regret it. He was one of the best Captain of the City Guards that I ever had.” 

“I did.” McKentick sighed. “He told me once, when he was drinking his sorrows away before he met Fiona. When he realized what he had done, he swore me to secrecy. Said it was his shame and such. He didn’t want Horace to know later on. I’m sorry son.” 

Cassandra understood a little of what Horace’s father was going on about. She went through something similar and if she were in his position, she’d just want to live the life she had in front of her. Horace looked dissatisfied. 

“It’s fine.” His voice was hoarse. 

“What does this have to with that former lord?” Evanna asked. 

“He’s my uncle.” 

McKentick swore and McAngus looked like he wanted to hit something but didn’t know what to hit.   
“I reclaimed my birthright as the eldest son’s heir. Kicked him off his land and told the head of the Rangers to arrest him and search the premises. He’s not going unpunished.” 

“Good!” McAngus snarled. 

Horace sighed and stood up. “Do you mind if you excuse me? I need a minute.” 

“Why don’t we end for now and all of us take a breather. All of you have had a long journey and must be tired. McKentick, could you show them to a guest home? Cora, Aila, you both are welcome to stay with us.” Evanna said. Horace left before Cassandra could say anything to him. She thought that he was crying a little. She wanted to follow him and do something but she didn’t think that was appropriate. 

“Of course. If you’d all follow me.” McKentick stepped up and gestured them to follow him. Cassandra gave them a little curtsy to McAngus and Evanna and followed them out. 

“That went well,” Will sighed. 

“Eh, you can’t make it through a conversation with him without him yelling.” McKentick waved it off. “You were smart to bring the princess with you. It’s a show of trust. And McAngus’ family. They both missed them and will be better persuaded.” 

“It’s what Horace recommended and if you don’t mind, please call her Evanlyn. We don’t want many people to know she’s here. Given what’s happened,” Halt explained. 

“Good idea, miss Evanlyn.” McKentick smiled at Cassandra. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Horace spoke highly of you and your sister.” 

“Of course he spoke of her. That boy thinks with his stomach first and his brain second.” McKentick shook his head in amusement. 

“I was worried that he’d eat his way through our supplies, then me!” Will joked. 

“Why you?” Halt asked, looking bewildered. 

“He’s sweet on Evanlyn, would never do that to Cora, and is scared of you. And I’m the juicy one. So it’s the logical.” Will waved his hands. 

“The boy has a point. Besides, you look too gamey.” McKentick sized Halt up and down. 

“I’ll show you gamey,” Halt threatened. 

“Mhm.” McKentick smirked and opened the door to a cozy looking home. “This is where you will be staying. You are welcome to come and go around the village, please don’t cause trouble. I will arrange for someone to bring you some food. Our weekly communal dinner is tonight. If I can wrangle Horace into coming, I will send him. If not, I’ll send someone else. It will take a few days for Evanna to figure out what to do. Any questions?” 

Cassandra couldn’t think of anyone. All of her energy was gone. She shook her head. “No thank you. Guys?” She looked over to Halt and Will.   
  
“Can you make sure Horace is okay? He’s been taking this pretty hard.” Will asked. Cassandra felt bad for not thinking of that. She should have done that. She was just so tired and her mind hurt. She wanted to sleep. She kind of just assumed that Horace just wanted a minute alone.

“I’ll check up on him. Don’t worry. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” 

“I know. I just worry about all of my friends.” Will gave him a thumbs up.

“Thank you, McKentick.” Halt nodded to him. 

“If that’s all then I will leave you be. See you this evening.” McKentick waved goodbye and headed down the road. 

Cassandra closed the door behind her and sighed. “I’m going to take a nap. I’ll see guys later.” She waved goodbye, found the closest room and then collapsed onto the bed there. 


	15. Chapter 15

McKentick found Horace watching the training of new soldiers and guards. Horace didn’t know where else to go. If he went to his family’s grave then all he would do was cry. Horace was too tired to cry. And he didn’t want to go back to his home because he’d probably find Isla there and he wasn’t mentally prepared to speak with her. 

“You alright son?” 

Horace sighed. “Yeah, I just can’t deal with this anymore. I’m exhausted.” 

McKentick patted Horace on the shoulder. “Don’t let your uncle destroy you. It’s what he wants.” 

“I know.” Horace stared as the trainees started to do mock battles. “Just hard to process. Haven’t had the time. I’ve been so worried for Cora. She lost a lot of blood.” 

“She seems to be doing well now.” Maybe now but those days after the attack, she looked so pale and lifeless. Like a walking corpse. “I like your girlfriend.” 

Horace chuckled, while scratching his chin. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”   
  
“I take it that you and Isla are over completely.” McKentick sounded a little disappointed, Horace hoped that he’d understand. 

“Yeah, well, I was clinging onto memories. Nothing more. She moved on and I decided that I should too. So I did.” Horace couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“She did move on.” 

“She got a boyfriend?” 

“A good lad. Not you but trusting. Head over heels for her.” If McKentick approved, then Horace didn’t care about her new boyfriend. “Why the princess?” 

“She’s smart, stubborn and passionate. What isn’t there to like?” Horace rose his eyebrows at McKentick. 

“Fair enough.” McKentick nodded. “Araluen has been treating you well then?” 

“Yeah, I’ll thinking about going back.”

“Why?” 

Horace sighed. “Well I have to go back to get the rest of my things, my father’s ring, and settle the estate, try to find someone to take over because there’s no way that I’m becoming a lord. And well, even if we get a treaty in place that’s not going to fix everything. It’s a start and we have to keep trying to fix things. I’m going to stick around here for a bit though, figure out what McAngus and NioLyall want before going back. What do you think?” Horace looked up to McKentick who was frowning in thought. 

“I think that might be a good idea.” 

“I mean, we are capable of doing it. Look at the Araluen soldiers who stayed here. Murray says that they’re pretty good. Speaking go which, how are they settling?” Horace asked, watching the group finish training. 

“Why don’t you come speak to them. You’re the mastermind behind all of this after all. Come on.” McKentick clapped a hand and started dragging Horace down to the group. Horace tried to protest but released it was futile. He’d never win against him. “Boys, come meet the asshole who saved your lives.” 

“Now, I’m starting to realize why Halt is so grumpy,” Horace grumbled. 

“What, like the famous Ranger?” One man asked. The small group of about five men circled around Horace and McKentick, buzzing in nervous excitement. There might be more out on patrol with Murray. 

“Is he famous? All I know is that he pushed me off a horse two days ago.” 

“You deserved it.” McKentick crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. Horace flipped him off. 

An older man, possibly in his late fifties, why he was in the army Horace had no idea, squinted at Horace. “Thoughts that you would be older, you know. That being said, our captain is young lad like you.” 

“Murray is also an asshole, who also served under me,” Horace joked. That seemed to relax the group. “How are you guys settling in here?” 

“Nathaniel, here,” One of the younger guys with sandy blond hair nudging the older man, who was bright red, with amusement. “Is already thinking about getting hitched already to that nice baker.” 

“Cecelia? Yeah, she’s pretty great. Used to sneak me cookies when I was younger.” 

“Is that so?” McKentick mused. “Always wondered how you got chubby. Definitely wasn’t Mia’s cooking.” 

“Hey! Be nice.” Horace saw the confused look on everyones’ face. “McKentick officially took me in when my parents passed away. But let’s be honest, all the grandmas took me in. They all would sneak me sweets. Cecelia was the worst offender.”   
  
“Cece’s great.” Nathanial got a sappy smile. “And you can’t be teasing me Emmet, you and your girl are practically moved in already.” Emmet shrugged but smiled. 

“Your last name is Altman right?” Another guy asked. Horace nodded. “That’s Araluen right? Served under a lord named Altman. Such a fucking asshole. I liked his brother more. It’s why I didn’t go back.” McKentick frowned at the mention of Horace’s uncle.

“Yeah. My dad’s Araluen. He was Captain of the City Guard. This old man,” Horace gestured to McKentick. “Can tell you more about him. He was pretty close to him and my mom. So you're from Redmont, where are the rest you from?”   
***   
McKentick bullied Horace into going for dinner. Horace didn’t want to because he’d have to sit at the table in the front with McAngus and his family and everyone else, he couldn’t sit with his friends, Murray, Fraser, Kian, and Lachlan and the other guys in his former platoon. Horace stood out enough in Araluen, he didn’t want that to happen here. 

So for most of the dinner, Horace slouched in his seat and poked at his food. Cassandra looked mildly asleep half of the time and almost as uncomfortable as Horace felt. 

He sighed in thanks to the gods when dinner was over and people started drinking and dancing. “This is the fun part,” Horace leaned over to Cassandra and Will. Both of them perked up. “We start dancing and drinking. Once the kids are gone the adults come out to play.” 

“You say that like you used to go these things Horace. I do remember Mia dragging you away half of the time,” McKentick noted while drinking his ale. 

Halt barked in laughter as Horace glared at him. “I was a teenager when that happened, thank you very much.” 

“Are you sure?” McKentick asked, raising an eyebrow at Horace. Horace knew that he was referring to when Horace would sneak out with Isla but Horace really didn’t want to get into that, so he just made a face at McKentick.   
  
“So do you usually dance in just the hall or do you go outside?” Cassandra asked. 

“Further the night goes, the drunker people get, the further outside they go,” McKentick joked. 

Cassandra looked confused. “It's a joke. He likes to think he’s funny,” Horace explained. Cassandra giggled as McKentick scowled at Horace. 

Horace pressed a kiss to her cheek and turned back to the large dancing group. Most of the time, Horace skipped out on the dancing because it was too crowded. There was just so many people. Horace made a face the crowd and turned back to his ale. 

Under the table, Cassandra took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed it back. No words needed. 

“You look tired, you okay?” Cassandra asked. Will looked pretty interested. He stopped watching people and looked to Horace. 

“Yeah, I just,” Horace trailed off when he saw a couple in a crowd. He recognized the wavy dark hair as he woke up every morning for several years. Lead pooled his stomach. He knew that she moved on. It was just hard seeing her like that. Especially since it was the first time he’s seen her in a year. She caught his eye and froze. His stomach rolled, tight with pain. He looked away. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. It’s been a rough couple of days,” he assured Cassandra. 

Her face softened as she brushed his hair away from his eyes. “You push yourself too hard.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve told me before.” Horace brushed it off. 

“Maybe you should listen to her,” Will leaned past Cassandra and rose an eyebrow at Horace. 

“I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.” 

Will just stuck his tongue out him. 

Horace shook his head and turned back to Cassandra. “You know, I think I might turn in early. See you in the morning?” 

“Go get some sleep. And say good night to Cora. She’ll pout if you don’t.” 

“I know.” Horace stood up, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Night.”

“Night.” Cassandra smiled at him. He smiled back. 

He gently punched McKentick in the shoulder. “See you in the morning. You too, Will. And Halt.” Halt just waved goodnight. 

“Night, man. Hope you feel better in the morning,” Will said. Horace nodded. He just needed to get out of this room. Away from everyone.   
  
He headed over to Cora, who also looked like she was going to fall asleep. He tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m going to turn in for the night. You should be too.” 

She covered a yawn and nodded. “Yeah, I should probably do that too. Night Horace.” 

“Night.” He messed up her head. “See you later Aila.” 

“Goodnight Horace,” Aila said. 

Horace slipped through the crowds, trying to stay away from where Isla and her new boyfriend. He could feel her eyes on him. He slipped out of the dining hall, grabbed his things from Kicker’s stall that he forgot to grab and headed to his cottage. Isla could stay at her mother’s for the time being, or her new boyfriend’s. 

He marched up the dark path to his cottage, and was surprised to see a flickering light in his cottage. He was thankful that he didn’t have to go home to a cold and dark cottage. He closed the door behind him, tossing his pack onto the couch and pulled off his boots. 

His cottage hasn’t changed at all. It looked exactly like he left it. The first thing that Horace did was pull out his statue of Leldir and put him on the mantel. Good. 

Maybe there was some food in the kitchen. His cottage was an open lay out plan. So he could see his kitchen and his dinning room table from the couch. So Horace didn’t have go into a dark room with a candle. The fire would be enough light. 

There was a small knock on his door as he headed to the kitchen. Horace stopped mid track and sighed. 

He pressed his lips into a tight line and opened the door. “Isla. Good to see you.” 

In the dim light he could see she looked angry, or at least annoyed at him. “Don’t give me that look Horace. I told you that I wasn’t going to be one of girls waiting for her boyfriend to come back from war. I’m allowed to date. You’re dating! That pretty girl from Araluen you were sitting with.” 

“It’s not that!” Horace sighed, closing the door behind her. “Fuck, I missed you Isla. You stopped writing when I needed you the most. I don’t care that you have a boyfriend, well I do I never really got closure but that’s not why I’m mad at you.” 

Fuck, Horace could feel painful hot tears coming up. He wiped his tears away, glaring at her. 

“Oh.” Isla wilted. 

“I missed my best friend. The one that would sneak out with me to go plead with Cecelia for cookies. The one that helped me make stupid charms to lay on my family’s graves. I don’t care if you have a boyfriend. I’m happy that you’re happy but why did you have to leave me behind?” 

Isla sobbed, she now started to cry. So both of them had started crying. Horace could barely see her, the tears were so thick. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was angry, so fucking angry. That you and my uncle were trotting off to war without a second thought then you leaving again. That you could just up root yourself and go to fucking Araluen? Where you were likely to get a knife in your back! I was so mad at you Horace,” She ranted. 

“So you tortured me by not writing and leaving me to learn about what you were doing through McKentick? I didn’t get a choice, Isla. I got promoted and then was told I had to leave. I didn’t like it more than you. I didn’t want to leave you. I wanted to come home and see if we could still be us!” 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Isla cursed, kicking the couch. 

Horace just stared at his sobbing ex-girlfriend. She had been so alone during the time he was gone, Horace hadn’t even thought about that. He had turned to Cassandra and Will for comfort. She turned to her boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry Horace. When Uncle Argus told me you went to Araluen, he never told me you were ordered too. I can’t, I’m so sorry,” she broke into tears again. 

Horace hated seeing her like this. He was exhausted and there was no point of holding onto his anger anymore. It just consumed him to the point where he wasn’t him anymore. The anger that had been curling up his chest just unfurled. He’s gone on and on about her hurting him but he hurt her too. 

He sighed. “Come here.” He held out his arms and Isla tackled him into a hug. Horace stumbled back from the force of her hug. He sighed again and rested his chin on her head. “We’re a mess aren't we?” 

“I thought that I lost you forever.” 

“I’m here now. Don’t worry.” 

Isla sniffled and wiped her eyes with her hands. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional,” she mumbled. 

“It’s not a bad thing to be emotional Isl. Want some tea?” 

“Yes please.” Her voice was small. Horace mussed up her hair and headed to find his kettle. 

It was good to be home.  
***  
Horace woke up early had decided to visit his family’s graves. He thought that dad would like to know that his brother was finally brought to justice but Horace couldn’t stay long. It made him sick to be up there for long. It used to bring Horace comfort when he was little now it just made him feel uncomfortable. 

He went to go bug Halt afterwards, it would cheer him up. 

When he came to the porch of the house, he found Halt scowling at the world around him. “What’s wrong?” Horace collapsed into the seat next to him. 

“You people don’t drink coffee. Savages,” Halt grumbled. 

Horace couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, it’s not really a thing here. We don't get the beans here. Maybe if you go up north to one of the port clans.” 

Halt grumbled. 

“So I heard from some of the Araluen soldiers that you’re famous. Is that true?” 

“No.” 

“Really they seemed to be pretty dazzled knowing that you’re here. I’m not sure why because all I see is a grumpy old man.” 

“I will hit you.” 

“Well they got the grumpy part down.” 

Halt gave Horace a dirty look as the door opened and Cassandra same stumbling out. She yawned and brushed back her hair from her face. “Morning,” she mumbled. 

“Morning!” Horace chirped and Cassandra dropped into his lap. She yawned and curled up in his lap. Horace smiled and put his arms around her, tucking her under his cloak. “So back to you Halt.” 

“Continue and I’ll rip your teeth out.” 

Cassandra giggled, covering her mouth as she did so. Horace stuck his tongue out Halt. Halt rolled his eyes and muttered something about children. 

Horace hummed softly and kissed her neck. 

Halt decided to go back inside, leaving Horace and Cassandra alone. Horace rested his head on her shoulder. “How was last night. Sorry for dipping out so early,” Horace apologized. 

“It’s okay. You needed the sleep. You did miss a few fistfights.” 

“Shame.” Horace yawned and snuggled up to her more. They had a few days before the meeting at least so Horace wanted to show her around. “There’s a bakery around here that the lady who runs is always sneaks me cookies and they’re pretty good. They might not be as good as Sam’s to you but they’re pretty good.” 

“You know I never say no to cookies.” Cassandra smiled brightly at him. She looked up to his mess of a hair and tried to tame it. “You need a haircut.” 

“I’m sorry I thought I was dating you and not Mia, my surrogate mother.” 

Cassandra pushed his face away. “Just because I tell you that you need a haircut, doesn’t mean that I’m mothering you. That is a mop. I will get Halt to cut it himself. Do you really want that? He uses a saxe,” she threatened. 

“Terrified.” Horace rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. 

Cassandra shook her head and looked to the scene around her. “This feels so different to the castles back home. No wonder you felt so out of place.” 

“I got used to it,” Horace lied. It still made him feel a little weird.

“Where’s your place?” Cassandra asked. 

“On the edge of town. I don’t like crowds.” 

“Can I see it?” 

“Sure. After we go get some food from Cecelia, we can go ditch Halt and check out my place. I will tell you, it’s not much.” 

“I’m sure it’s something.” She kissed his cheek. He liked being here with her. There was no need to hide who they were. He didn’t have to worry about whispers behind his back. It’s why Horace was nervous to go back. And that he had lived in the castle, maybe he could see if he could a home outside of the city and just come in for the day. That way he could also escape the whispers. 

Cassandra could come and escape the city life for a bit. It would be nice. 

Horace and Cassandra watched people mill around the small square, watching people going to work, shuffling through the snow. Horace recognized a small figure come marching towards him. “Hey, princess?” 

“Yes?” 

“You might want to get up. I’m going to be yelled at in a second.” 

Cassandra made a confused noise but got up. Horace hid a grimace and headed down the steps. Mia’s small figure came stomping closer. She looked so much like her daughter. Especially when they were angry.

“Mia! Please don’t kill me!” Horace pleaded. 

“Horace Altman! You’ve been home for how many hours and you haven’t come visit me?” Mia was one of the few in the city that could speak Araluen. 

“Sorry Mia but after nearly getting my head ripped off by McAngus, I kind of forgot. If makes you feel better, your brother was bullying me yesterday. Same with Halt. He pushed me off of Kicker.” Horace embellished that part a little. 

Mia crossed her arms and gave Horace an unimpressed look. “As the prevalent mother figure in your life, I don’t enjoy that.” He could tell that she was trying hard not to smile. 

“Aw come on, that’s not Mia the I know. She laughed when I knocked myself out by running into a tree when I was twelve.” Mia tried to smother her giggles. Cassandra didn’t even try. 

Horace rose his eyebrows at Cassandra. “Sorry. Sorry. Just how the fuck did you manage to do that?” She asked between giggles. 

“I was a dumb child. I also was trying to beat someone, I forget whom, in a race. I was not looking where I was going.” Cassandra continued to giggle. 

“Oh, aren’t you a cute little thing aren’t you! Come here. Horace who is this?” Mia waved Cassandra over. Cassandra nervously came down the steps and tucked herself into Horace’s side, smiling nervously at Mia.

“Mia this is Evanlyn. She joined us on a mission, sorry, it’s kind of confidential for the time being, but she’s also my girlfriend.” It was weird saying it out loud for the first time. 

Horace didn’t know how Mia was going to take it. He knew that she hoped for grandkids and that she liked Horace and Isla together. But he hoped that she could move past that and be happy for Horace and Isla with their respective relationships. 

“Oh! Aren’t you a doll? Look at you. You have beautiful eyes. Horace!” Mia gave him a withering look. 

“Hey! Mia! This is why I like your brother better.” Mia glared at him but there was no heat behind it. 

“Sorry Mia.” He wasn’t sorry.   
  
“Mhm.” Mia sniffled at him and turned back to Cassandra. Cassandra seemed to relax a little around Mia. “So, how’d you two meet? You rather out his league.” Mia had no idea how far out his league Cassandra was. 

“I’m a courier back home and was one of the ones who had to deal with this grumpy mess. Then I became rather fond of this mess.” Cassandra smiled up at Horace. Horace made a face back at her. 

“Yes, he is a mess. Speaking of messes, have you spoken to Isla?” Mia turned back to Horace. 

Did she really have to bring up that up in front of Cassandra. Horace sighed. “Yeah, we spoke yesterday.” 

Mia hummed. “She’s got a new boyfriend. One of the Araluens that decided to stay. Nice boy, reminds me of your father. A City Guard. Respectable. If Murray ever gets a promotion, he’d be a good replacement.” 

Really. Isla didn’t tell Horace that. 

“I have to go finish running errands. Come for dinner if you can. It’ll be nice to catch up. It’s good to see you Horace.” Mia pulled Horace into a hug. “And it’s lovely to meet you Evanlyn.” Mia pulled, a very surprised, Cassandra into a hug.

“It’s lovely to meet you too.” Cassandra attempted to smile at back at Mia but she looked a little flustered. 

“Well, I best be off. Behave yourself, Horace.” Mia pointed threateningly to Horace as she started off. 

“You know I never do,” Horace mumbled.   
  
“What’s that, boy?” 

“Nothing, Mia.” 

“Better be!” 

Horace cackled and pecked Cassandra’s cheek. She smiled and closed her eyes. He liked that smile. “Want to go get your cloak and see if Cecelia will give us cookies?” 

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Cassandra hurried back inside, the door banging shut behind her. A second later she was back out with her cloak around her shoulders, hurriedly kissing his cheek and taking his hand. “It’s pretty out here.” 

“Just wait until another clan comes and attacks.” 

“For fucks sake Horace, I’m trying to be nice.” 

“I know, I’m pulling your leg. It is beautiful out here.” Horace swung their entwined hands. 

Luckily, Cecelia’s place wasn’t too far from where they were. Just down a snowy street with sleepy looking houses. Seriously, the only place that looked alive was the bakery. 

“Knock knock. Anyone home?” Horace ducked into the surprisingly empty shop, he smiled at the smell of the fresh bread, and held open the door for Cassandra. 

He smiled broadly when he saw the familiar head of grey hair comes from the kitchen. “Horace! Ha ha! Good to see you, my favourite little boy.” Cecelia came shuffling out of the kitchen. 

“It’s good to see you too Cecelia. Looking as spry as ever.” Horace earned a hug from that one. He looked over to Cassandra and winked. He was on his way to scoring free food. 

“Nathaniel!” Cecelia screamed into the rest of the building. Horace head him yell back. Cecelia turned to Horace and then noticed Cassandra. “Hello, who’s this?” 

Cassandra looked over to Horace for translation. Right. “She’s asking who you are. Give me a second,” Horace translated. He turned back to Cecelia. “Cecelia, this is Evanlyn. She’s my girlfriend and courier for Araluen.” 

Nathanial appeared out of nowhere. Horace and Cassandra waved, Nathanial waved back and then kissed Cecelia hello. “Nathanial dear, this is Horace, the boy I was talking to you about. He’s a general and half-Araluen. This is his girlfriend Evanlyn. She’s an Araluen courier. She’s a pretty girl.” 

“Yes, I know dear. I met him yesterday.” 

Horace leaned back over to Cassandra. “She’s praising me. Saying how I’m such a good boy. Nathanial is agreeing.” 

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Cassandra raised an eyebrow at Horace. 

“He’s not wrong,” Nathanial defended Horace. Horace made a smug face at her. Cassandra glared back. “I’m Nathanial. Nice to meet you.” 

“Wonderful. I’ve heard wonderful things about your baking.” Cassandra turned to Cecelia. Nathanial translated. 

“Ah! I understand you but my speaking is not good,” Cecelia explained in broken Araluen. “But thank you for the compliment. Horace, you choose well.” Cecelia patted Horace’s cheek. 

“Thank you.” Horace smiled brightly at Cecelia. 

“She says that Horace chooses well. I suppose that’s a compliment to you.” Nathanial nudged Cassandra. Her face flushed but she looked rather pleased. 

“Are you back Horace? For good? We need you here dear. And I miss you.” Cecelia turned back to her counter riffled through her small space. 

“How long I’m back is to be determined unfortunately. I’m here to on a diplomatic mission.” 

That didn’t look like it pleased Cecelia that much as she humphed but pulled out a small beat-up tin filled with cookies. Horace nudged Cassandra and grinned. He didn’t even have to ask. She knew him so well. 

“Well, all I can say is that your father would be proud of you Horace.” 

“Thank you Cecelia.” Horace was pulled into another hug. It was nice to hear that. Horace remembered very little of his dad and it was just nice. It made him feel better. 

“Mhm. These are for you and your girlfriend. Show her a nice time here in Shal,” Cecelia ordered, shoving the tin into his hands. 

“Thank you Cecelia. I didn’t even have to ask! Oh, you know me so well.” Horace hugged her again. Cecelia shook her head fondly and shooed him out of the bakery. He cackled once the door was shut. “Told ya.” 

“I don’t think that fooling a sweet bakery lady is something to be proud of Horace,” Cassandra scolded. 

“I didn’t fool her! I was myself the entire time. She just knows me too well.” Horace gave her a lopsided grin. It slipped a little when he saw Isla, hand in hand with Emmet, coming down the street. She had neglected to tell him that her boyfriend was Emmet. Not that Horace cared. He just felt a little betrayed that she didn’t tell him. 

Isla noticed them, she looked a little uneasy too, and waved them over. “I see that you’re up to your old shenanigans. Conning Cecelia out of her food,” she teased, thankfully in Araluen so Cassandra could understand them. Emmet looked a little spooked if being honest. He looked between Horace and Cassandra with confusion.   
  
“Excuse me, I just went to say hello to an old friend. She just gave me the cookies, right Evanlyn?” Horace asked, looking to Cassandra. 

“I barely understood what was going on. Don’t ask me to defend you.” Cassandra raised her hands. 

Isla smirked and looped her arm through with Cassandra’s. “I like her. She’s my friend now. Nothing you can do about it.” 

Before Horace could retort back with a clever insult, there were three distant deep horns blasts. Isla’s face turned to ash and Emmet looked like he was going to be nauseous. Horace paused, waiting for the response. It rang after a second. “Shit,” Horace mumbled, passing the tin to a confused Cassandra. “Right, Isla, take Evanlyn to McAngus’ place. Get her inside and explain to Warmaiden NioLyall. She’ll know what to do.” 

“On it. Come along, you don’t want to be on the streets during a raid.” Isla tugged Cassandra towards the main square. Cassandra turned to Horace, her eyes wide in fear. 

“It’ll be fine. This happens often,” Horace assured her. That didn’t seem to work but Isla tugged Cassandra away before Horace could explain more. Hopefully Isla would. 

“I’m going to get to the barracks.” Emmet started heading in the opposite direction that Horace wanted him too. 

Horace grabbed his arm as he tried to pass. “I need you for something else. Go to the guest house and get the rangers and tell them to get to McAngus’ place and stay out of the fight. And then I need you to go and protect Evanlyn. I’ll tell Murray.” 

“Right. Then maybe after this, you can explain to me why the Crown Princess of Araluen is here and why you two are acting like a couple.” Horace frowned at the man in front of him. “What Evanlyn and I do is none of your business. And Evanlyn is here on a diplomatic mission. Understand?” 

Emmet nodded, not looking super pleased at Horace’s explanation. 

“I’ll explain later, alright?” Horace relented. He needed more people that he could trust, especially with the journey to the grounds for the council. 

“Fine. Let’s just survive this first.” 

“Atta boy.” Horace clapped Emmet on the side and then headed to his house. The alarm meant that a raiding party was approaching, he had forty-five minutes to an hour until it hit. Horace grabbed what he needed and ran for the stables, running through the crowd who were desperate to get out of the streets. 

Kicker’s hooves rang through the streets as Horace clattered to the gate. 

“Good to have you back, boss! You haven’t seen Emmet have you?” Murray shouted as Horace passed. 

He paused his rush and looked up to Murray. “Yeah, I had him stay back to protect Evanlyn. Sorry.” Murray waved him off and Horace hurried out to the field, just past the barracks where the army was gathering. 

The army, lead by McKentick one of the two generals stationed in Shal, was already in formation by the time Horace got there. 

“Oh good, I wasn’t sure if you were coming out or not,” McKentick muttered to Horace as he pulled up. 

“Sorry, had to make sure Evanlyn was safe.” 

“And the rangers?” If Halt or Will got mixed into the fight then politically, they’d be in hot water. Raids were common in Picta, usually they never went horribly wrong and if McAngus got an outside party, especially an Araluen part, fighting his fights then clans would turn on him. 

“Got Emmet to tell the Rangers to stay with Evanlyn. Out of sight, out of trouble,” Horace muttered back. 

“Good. Don’t need those two running amok.” McKentick sighed and composed himself. “Horace, come meet your new army. Your colonels, you already know them, Kian and Lachlan.” 

Horace waved to his former men. He was glad that they got promotions. They both worked hard to prove themselves. Kian winked, leaning on his spear and Lachlan looked unbothered.

At this point raids didn’t bother Horace that much either. They were rather common and both sides didn’t really want to hurt people, they just wanted food and grain. It’s why they attacked the grain and dried meat houses and not the village. The problem was that the grain houses were less than five minutes to walk to the villages. And it was their food. 

“So, do you want to take the offence or defence, Horace?” McKentick asked. 

Over the years, they’d developed a system for protecting the grain houses. The group splits up into two groups, one group goes into the offensive, the main attacking force against the raiders and the other group fanned out around the grain houses and the border as a secondary line incase the raiders broke through the offensive team. The defensive group job is protect to the grain houses but more importantly the village. The clan wouldn’t be able to survive another tragedy. 

“I’ll take defence, seeing how this is my first raid as a general and my first in awhile.” Horace attempted a smile. 

McKentick gave him a grim smile back. “Sounds good.” He spurred his horse and yelled for his men to follow him. With a shout, his men followed after him. 

Horace sighed and turned back to his men and were all staring at him. “Alright, after me!” Horace ordered, spurring Kicker towards the food houses. The food houses were hidden within the trees to try to discourage attacks. If they couldn’t find the good then they couldn’t take it. Horace lead Kicker to the stalls and headed out after making sure that he was safe. “Kian, take your platoon and make a barrier just along the tree-line. I’ll meet you up there in a minute.” 

Kian nodded and barked at his platoon and they marched out to the edges of the trees. Horace could hear Kian yelling at them to get into position. 

Horace turned back to Lachlan. He had a bit of an idea what to do. “Right, so we have a more complicated job.” 

“We can split the group into two, one looking and patrolling through woods,” Lachlan offered. 

Horace shook his head, with what we went through in the war, I’m going to wager that they’re not going to go for the village. They’re going to need food and grain. Send some scouts to watch and raise the signal if they are but I want the majority of the men here. We can move easily if need be. I’m going to go with Kian. You’ll hear if things go bad and if we need help.” 

“Right. Let’s get this over with,” Lachlan mumbled the last part. 

Horace agreed.   
***  
The battle went bad fast. The attacking clan, Horace couldn’t remember which one, had split into two groups and one of them attacked from the side. McKentic withdrew his men back to Horace’s line. So that was where Horace was currently. 

He stood locked side by side Kian and another soldier that Horace didn’t know the name of was in the process of jabbing his spear at the man in front of him. It snapped when the man deflected it with his shield. 

Horace cursed and drew his sword. “Lock shields!” Horace yelled. In an instant the men around him locked shields in a diamond pattern with Horace at the front of the diamond. He grimaced painfully at the blows raining down upon him. 

They slowly pushed the attackers from the forest and out onto the field. 

Horace didn’t know how much longer he could continue to do this. His arms were screaming in protest. The shield was growing heavy and slipping from formation. 


	16. Chapter 16

Cassandra had been shoved into a room in the warlord’s house with Isla. The man who had been with Isla earlier came in to make sure they were safe and then disappeared back into the house. Halt and Will came through and copied the man’s actions. They couldn’t go out and join the fight. The whole house felt tense. Cassandra hadn’t seen Cora either. Was she safe? 

“Everything alright?” Isla asked. She stood by the window, looking out occasionally, and the pale winter sun lit up her pretty round face. 

Casandra angrily gestured around her. “I feel hopeless. I’m doing nothing, knowing that Horace is out there potentially getting hurt.” Why couldn’t Isla understand this? 

Her face softened and she sat next to Cassandra. “Raids are pretty horrible things, I won’t lie. Things can go bad pretty quickly but there hasn’t been a raid like what you’re picturing in years.” 

“What happened?” Cassandra hated herself for asking that. 

Isla made a face at the ground. “I lost my father, Cecelia the baker, she lost her only son, Horace, he lost both of his parents. There was more. It broke the clan for awhile.” 

“Oh.” Cassandra couldn’t help but think of Horace like that, broken and alone on the fields below. 

“Don’t worry. Horace, he’s stubborn, he’ll find a way back. They’ll both come back,” Isla assured Cassandra. She looked just as concerned as Cassandra felt. Her face was was ashy. She had more to lose. Her uncle was out there too. 

“He is pretty stubborn.” Cassandra tried to lighten the mood by joking. Isla laughed along with her. Cassandra didn’t know what to say to her, any attempt at conversation would fall flat due to the mood around them and just that any topic she could think about would fall flat. “Horace speaks very fondly of you, you know.” 

Isla slouched in her seat, staring blankly at the wall in front of her with her arms crossed. “I’m surprised that he even talked about me at all.” 

That didn’t seem like Horace at all. He always got a smile that made Cassandra all upset inside, when he talked about the escapades they got into when they were younger. “Really? Why? He’s always got a sappy smile when talking about you.” 

“And you hate it.” Isla rose an eyebrow at Cassandra. Cassandra didn’t know if they were ever a couple but it made her feel jealous. It was stupid, she trusted him and knew that he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose but it felt like he was hiding things from her.

“Do you blame me?” 

Isla shook her head. “No I don’t. But you don’t have to worry about anything. Horace and I, we haven’t been a thing for years, maybe a year and a half. And he’s got you and I have Emmet. We’re through.” 

Cassandra stared at the wall in front of her and tried not to cry. Why didn’t he fucking tell her? 

“Shit. He didn’t fucking tell you?” Isla asked. 

Cassandra shook her head. “I know it’s stupid, it’s in the past but I feel like he betrayed me.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Isla sighed and stood up. “One thing that you have to know about Horace is that he had a bit of a one track mind. It’s good for fighting. Get this territory and then go onto the next. He’s real sweet but can be a little dumb when it comes to emotions like this. When he says that there’s nothing between us then that’s that. He doesn’t really get that you might be upset that you think that there might be still romantic emotions between him and I. Which there isn’t, let me be clear.” 

That made sense. Horace wasn’t like Will who leaped from idea from idea and could come up with brilliant and complex strategy plans. Horace went from point A to point B, he even told Cassandra at one point that he wasn’t cut out to be a politician which was as complicated as it was. 

“He’s very blunt and to the point,” Cassandra agreed. 

“Good gods, I know.” Isla flopped onto her seat. 

“After the first time he kissed me, he told me that we shouldn’t have done that because it might cause friction between us and create more issues between us. Which is true I will admit but shit, that was direct.” 

“No. I’m so sorry,” Isla apologized for Horace. 

“It’s fine. I mean things worked out for us. For the most part.” There was still so much unknown that it terrified her. “Why did you break up with him? It seems like you two were really happy.” 

Cassandra felt horrible seeing Isla tear up. She quickly wiped her tears away. “I lost my dad in a raid. I saw his body in the middle of the square. My uncle’s a general who refuses to stay away from the fight even though he could. I’m constantly terrified that I’m going to lose him like I lost my dad. I worry enough for my uncle, I couldn’t do that with Horace. I couldn’t do it again. I don’t have the strength to do it again. I begged him not to go. To join the City Guard like his dad but he refused. So I told him that I wasn’t going to go through that and broke up with him. I hated it for the longest time, I missed him but there’s it was better for me. I’m glad he’s happy. He gets that sappy smile looking at you.” 

That was sweet but how long would it last, with Horace probably staying here in Shal?

Isla paused for a second, blinking slowly so she wouldn’t cry. “I miss my best friend. We used to get into so much shit. I haven’t seen or heard hide nor hair of him for the longest time. Fuck!” She sobbed. 

“If it makes you feel better, he’s got permission to stay here once all of what’s going on is over. You’ll have him back.” It made Cassandra sick to think about it but Isla, she seemed like she needed her friend a lot more that then Cassandra.   
  
“Really?” Isla looked up to Cassandra with red-rim eyes. Cassandra nodded solemnly. Isla looked lost in thought. They were both saved from answering when there was a small knock on the door. 

Cassandra got up and opened the door. Cora peered at Cassandra nervously. “Can I come in? I need to get away from my family. They’re mother-henning and I’m exhausted from it all.” Cassandra looked over to Isla. Isla just shrugged. 

“Of course.” Cassandra opened the door to Cora. Cora slid in and stared at Isla nervously. “Cora, this is Isla. She’s an old friend of Horace.” 

“Yeah!” Cora perked up. “He told me about you. Guess I have you to thank for decorating his place. He has no creative bone in his body.” 

Isla’s fatigued looked vanished. She wiped her eyes and sat up. “I know. It’s a fucking travesty.”   
  
Cassandra smiled tightly, the knot in her stomach loosened.   
***  
Night was coming and no one heard anything from the field. Isla went home to help her mom take care of her younger siblings. Cassandra and Cora went downstairs, not sure what else to do, to join the rest of the adults. The tight knot in her stomach hadn’t unwound at all. Horace was still out there and she was here. He couldn’t do it. 

Emmet was still there, looking incredibly nervous, his eyes flickering to the door and back. When he noticed Cassandra, he gave her a little nod of respect and turned back to McAngus who was starting to get irate. 

“I should go down there. Take the guard and see what the fuck is going on,” McAngus growled. It seemed this wasn’t normal. Everyone was tense. Cora looked aghast at the thought. 

“Neil!” Evanna snapped. “Think out a thought for once! If you go down there with the guard then you’re leaving the whole village unprotected!” 

“Fine!” McAngus yelled. “I’ll take the blasted rangers here with me. You two are good with those bows you lug around, aren’t ya?” He glared at Halt who was standing there silently. Will must be outside, keeping guard in the darkness. 

“We are but would it not be counter-productive? We would not want us to get involved with other Clans. They would turn against you.” Halt’s tone was soft against McAngus’ rage. 

“At this point, I don’t fucking care! If the men from my clan are dead then there’s going to be no clan!” 

“Why don’t we just send Will or Halt to look? They don’t have to get involved but could report back to you. If things look like they’re going for the worse then you can get the guard,” Cassandra offered. 

“That’s a good idea. Rangers are supposed to be known for their stealth. No one would see them,” Aila supported Cassandra’s idea.

McAngus and Halt looked like they were considering this when there was a small knock on the door. A second later an exhausted looking Horace trooped into the living room with a silent Will behind him. He was coated with grim and dried blood. The bright blue paint along his eyes was smudged and faded. “Reporting in, sir. Sorry I’m late.” 

His entire body sagged with exhaustion. 

Overwhelmed with relief, Cassandra tackled him into a hug. She didn’t care that everyone was looking. “Oh, hey. I’m okay,” Horace murmured, on his hands tangled in her hair. She refused to let go of him. 

“Horace, what happened?” Aila asked.   
  
“Yeah, seanair was going nuts.” Cora sounded relieved. 

“Sorry,” Horace apologized. 

“Horace, stop apologizing. Please sit down,” Evanna pleaded with him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Horace gently nudged Cassandra to let go. She immediately took his hand. She didn’t want to ever let him out of her sight again. He collapsed onto the couch, Cassandra immediately sat next to him. He smiled tiredly at her as he put an arm around her shoulders. 

“What happened? Where’s McKentick?” McAngus’ voice cracked. He looked worried for his old friend. 

“He’s fine. He just escorted the injured to the medics and then went home. I volunteered to come up. Things went bad, luckily no death-bed injuries, really quickly. They came at us at two sides, cornering us. It took us a long time to get out. They were rabid. It was the worst one I’ve seen. I don’t think they had any food.” McAgnus took his wife in his arms and rubbed her shoulders as her face fell. 

Horace looked hollowed and exhausted. “We’re going to have to prepare for more raids, set up some sort of defence. The war depleted a lot of food reserves and people were going to be desperate.” 

Cassandra didn’t want to give them hope but she believed that she could convince her father to send food. Or Erak, they also had plenty of food. Skandians were on decent terms with clans right? 

Aila frowned and tugged on her braid. “I’ll speak with Theo, we have enough food to spare.” 

Well if Aila was going to suggest it, then Cassandra will bring it. “I’ll speak with my father when I get back. We have more than enough food.” 

Evanna sighed and shook her head. “That is a problem for another time. The council meeting in a few days and it’s late and…” She shook her head. 

“Go get some sleep, Horace,” McAngus ordered. His face softened at the sight of Horace almost falling asleep on Cassandra’s arm. “You did good.” 

“Thank you sir.” Horace shambled to his feet and yawned. “I’ll report back in tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry about it, dear.” Evanna waved him off. 

“Come on. Let’s get you a bath and bed.” Cassandra had to hold back from hovering around him but pulled him into the hallway. If he stayed there, then he was bound to start talking more with McAngus about how to strengthen defences. He needed sleep. “Oh hi Emmet.” 

Emmet stared at Cassandra, his green eyes wide with horror. Shit. He heard her talking about her dad. And he was Araluen, she was pretty sure. Shit. “So you are the princess. Shit. Things must be real bad if you’re here.” 

Horace looked to Emmet, then to Halt and Will. He closed his eyes for a hot second. “Come to my place in a bit. Isla too and I’ll explain. Just give me some time to calm down.” 

“Of course, man.” Emmet opened the door for them. 

“Say anything to anyone who isn’t in this house or McKentick and I will come after you. My priority is the princess’ safety. Do not test me,” Halt growled. Will shifted to his death glare with Cassandra. He wasn’t the sweet kid who she met in Celtica when she was younger. 

“So is mine. I might live in Scotti now but I was still a part of the Royal Regiment. I swore an oath to protect the royal family and I’m upholding it no matter what.” 

“Good.” Will patted Emmet on the shoulder as he left. The look that he gave Emmet sent shivers down Cassandra’s spine. Cassandra clung onto Horace as she pulled him out of the house. 

Their attention was pulled the main square when there was a clatter of hooves. A small group of soldiers came to a stop in front of her. “Sorry to interrupt boss, but we found this guy roaming the woods,” Murray apologized when he saw Horace. 

The group of soldiers parted and in the middle of the small circle was a rider on a shaggy horse with a multi-coloured cloak. Why was there another ranger here? 

“He’s one of us,” Halt said. 

“I know, I recognized the cloak. But he’s still kind of trespassing.” Murray shrugged. 

“I have evidence from Lord Altman’s estate that Crowley believed that Lord Altman would like to see. I’m sorry for trespassing but it is rather urgent.” The Ranger pulled down his hood and Cassandra recognized him. It was Liam. He nervously look from Will to Halt to Horace. 

Horace sighed and straightened himself. “Relax, Murray. Liam, bring whatever you have with you. Murray, take his horse to the stables.” 

“Yes sir.” Murray took the reins from Liam as he slid off his horse and grabbed a satchel from his saddle. 

“Must be urgent if Crowley is risking sending you here.” Will frowned at Liam’s exhausted state. 

Emmet looked confused when they came back in but didn’t say anything. He closed the door behind him as he left. Everyone looked up in confusion when they came back into the living room. 

“Horace, something wrong?” Aila asked, looking over to Liam’s huddled form. McAngus was still there while Cora and Evanna had dispersed somewhere into the house. 

“Liam says he has evidence that I need to see.” Horace collapsed onto the couch. Cassandra couldn't help but put her hands on his shoulders. 

“It has to to do with the attack on the princess and the baron’s daughter. These were found in the study of the former Lord Altman.” Liam passed a small bundle of letters to Horace. 

Horace frowned and took them from him. Everyone watched as Horace read them. 

“So?” McAngus asked. 

“They’re letters from MacFrewin discussing with my uncle about the best time and place for an attack on the princess. They’ve got his seal and everything. Has the king seen these?” Horace asked Liam who nodded sleepily. Horace nodded and then passed to to McAngus who got even angrier the more he read.

Cassandra knew that the former Lord Altman never liked her but to try to kill her? Why? She’s done nothing to him. That was unsettling. 

“Why would this lord want your princess dead? Is she not his princess too?” McAgnus asked Halt.   
  
“Lord Altman has been one of those annoyingly old fashioned men who’s not pleased that the next ruler of Araluen will be a woman. Alyss told me that he’s been trying to campaign to the King to get one of the princess’ cousins to be the next heir. I would assume that if MacFrewin managed to kill Cassandra then it’d knock out two stones for him,” Will supplied.

Cassandra folded her hands in her lap and looked down. Not sure what to do. Horace noticed and took her hand in comfort. 

“Meaning?” McAngus asked. 

“Meaning, Archer was the one who lead those night attacks. He’s not very fond of the Scotti,” Halt explained. McAngus snarled and started pacing. 

“I think that was born from my father escaping Araluen and made his way here, safe from my uncle. He couldn’t attack my father while he was here unless he wanted to provoke a war and when war broke out, he targeted us, probably trying to find him and end any link that could topple him.” Horace shook his head. 

“But joke’s on him.” Will laughed darkly. 

“That should be enough right? We have proof that MacFrewin wants Cassandra dead?” Horace looked to his Warlord. He looked lost. Sometimes Cassandra forgot that Horace was new to all of this. He handled things so well. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll speak with Evanna. Get some rest Horace.” McAngus’ face softened as he gently ordered Horace. “The ranger Halt and I will deal with this.” 

“Yes sir.” Horace stood up slowly. 

“Oh! Also, this is yours.” Liam pulled out a small ring from a pocket and handed it to Horace. His face immediately brightened. 

He took the ring from Liam and slid it on. “Thank you.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder and looked over to Halt and McAngus. Well, mostly just Halt. McAngus left the room, calling for his wife. 

It looked like he was struggling to breathe. “Go, Horace. We’ll meet back up later,” Will shooed Horace. 

“Are you going with him?” Halt asked Cassandra. 

She struggled not to blush under his raised eyebrows. “Yes. Look at him, he can barely stand.” 

“She’s got a point. Somebody needs to look over him. Look at him.” Will gestured to Horace who was leaning against a pillar. Halt rolled his eyes at them and muttered something in Hiberian. Since when did he speak Hiberian? Will winked and gave them a thumbs up, trotting after Halt. 

“Come on.” Cassandra looped her arm around his and kissed his cheek. Horace sighed and leaned against her. She had no idea where she was going but Horace seemed to know where to go, despite his exhausted state. 

His cottage was adorable. It was small and off to the side, with a warm glow inside. It looked inviting. It was worn but well taken care of. Cassandra gently nudged Horace inside and looked around. It reminded her of a Ranger’s cabin. Dark stone and wood made up the majority of the cabin. 

Horace collapsed onto the back of his couch, tossing his almost destroyed shield and sword, as Cassandra looked around and started shucking off his armour off. He whined pitifully when he couldn’t get his chest plate off. 

Cassandra sighed and helped him with his straps. “Happy?” She asked, pulling off of his chest plate. 

Horace nodded and dropped his head onto her shoulder. “It took so long. Everything hurts.” He looked too pitiful to be angry at. 

Despite whining that everything hurt, Horace was off of the couch and pushed Cassandra behind him when he heard someone close a door further into the house. Cassandra peeked behind him and saw Mia staring at Horace. “Ah, I’m sorry for startling you Horace. Argus came stumbling in and I figured you’d be just as tired so I came over to set up a bath,” she apologized. Horace relaxed and then resumed his position on the couch. He nodded tiredly and hugged Cassandra around the waist. She sighed and played with his hair. “I’ll look over him. Go home, spend some time with your brother.” 

“Alright. Take care dear.” Mia kissed Horace on the forehead before leaving. He nodded tiredly 

The door clicked shut behind her. 

“Come on.” Cassandra kept repeating herself as she tugged him up. 

“I can take care of myself. I’m not that useless,” Horace mumbled, pushing open the door to his, dimly lit, bathroom and then yawned, sitting down on the old wooden chair there. An old marble looking tub sat in the middle of the room. 

“I’m sure, but I want too.” Horace looked up in confusion. Cassandra sighed and cupped his face. “Horace, you were attacked repeatedly and looks rather painfully while I was safely away. I feel terrible for not doing anything to help. So let me help.” 

“Alright. You’re allowed to fuss over me, princess.” Horace took her hand and kissed her wrist tenderly while looking up at her. Cassandra affectionately messed his hair before turning to get the washcloth that was laid out for him. She dampened it and gently rubbed away the paint and dirt on his face. 

She was painfully aware that his dark eyes stared at her the whole time. “You know, I like it when you wear that paint,” she mused. 

“Why’s that?” Horace asked, his voice soft. 

“Girls like boys in uniforms.” She felt her face go warm under his small smirk. “Shut up.” She gently whacked him in the arm with the washcloth. 

Horace chuckled softly, his voice low in his throat, and stood up. Cassandra, subconsciously, took a small step back as he stood up but they were still basically chest to chest. She blinked in mild surprise at the closeness of them. “Hi,” she blurted out. 

“Hi princess.” His voice low but threaded with amusement. She took a step back when he pulled at his collar his shirt, trying to pull it off. He seemed to be struggling to get it off. “Um, can you help?” His cheeks flickered red. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Cassandra stumbled over her words but helped tug it off. She gripped his shirt in her hands, staring at him. She felt bad for doing it, he was exhausted and in pain, but she couldn’t help but stare. She’s never seen anyone in any state of undress, and she just couldn’t take her eyes off of him. 

He was so pretty with defined muscles but what really drew her attention was his scars. She knew that he had scars, he was a warrior, a general, but they just looked so painful looking. The thought of Horace going through that hurt her to her core. 

“Hey you okay?” Horace asked. 

Her eyes snapped from his, rather well defined, chest to his face. Her face flushed and nodded emphatically. “Yeah, totally.” 

Her face flushed even more when he smirked when he figured it out. “You sure?” He asked, stepping closer, brushing her hair away from her face. 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” There was insufferable smirk. Cassandra tugged him down to her level, her hands were around his neck, his mouth firmly on hers and she could feel his hands pressing on the soft skin of her waist. The kiss was short and intimate. Her eyes fluttered closed when he slowly pulled way. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered. 

Horace hummed and kissed her cheek. “Sorry for worrying you.” 

“Just don’t do it again.” 

“Yes ma’am.” She liked it when he did that. The kiss this time wasn’t as intimate, it was filled with desperation and need. Horace pressed her up against him so tightly, like he was afraid that she’d disappear. Cassandra gripped his jawline, desperately trying to get more. His mouth was almost painfully hard against hers. A whimper curled in her throat and she reached for more that he was more than happy to oblige. 

She could feel his hands start to move, explore, wandering to places that she didn’t know if she was ready to go there yet. 

She didn’t know how far he and Isla got but she wasn’t ready. This was all so new and a little terrifying to her. 

Cassandra stumbled back from him, he looked surprised at her sudden movement, nervously running her hands through her hair. “Sorry, I, I can’t.” 

“Cassie.” His voice was soft. “Don’t apologize for not wanting to do something. I’m sorry for pushing you. I shouldn’t have. Alright?” She nodded, still eyeing him nervously. 

“I’m going to go take a bath, the others will be here soon. Go cool down. Sound good?” 

She nodded again. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and hurried out. She took a quickly peek over her shoulder as she left, he was bent over and looked broken. She wanted to go back in there and make him feel better somehow. 

She closed the door behind her and went to the living room. Too busy herself, Cassandra organized the fallen armour and put on the kettle. As she put on the kettle in the fire, she noticed more statues on the mantel. She only recognized Leldir amongst them. 

A small knock drew her attention to the front door. “Hi Emmet.” Cassandra didn’t know how she felt around him. He was an Araluen who knew her identity. He was bound to act out in some way. 

“Your majesty.” He gave her a bit of a formal bow as he came in. 

“Oh, please don’t do that. I’m not Princess Cassandra right now. I’m just Evanlyn. The less people who know the better.” 

“Of course. Sorry. Uh, everything okay?” Emmet winced at his tone. She swore he looked familiar but she couldn’t place where she knew him. She knew that he was apart of the Royal Regiment but she never really had much interaction with them. She thought that she’d remember him, he had one of those faces. A strong jaw and sandy blonde hair. All the ladies would be afoot about the pretty young guard. 

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m fine. Just worried for Horace. He’s rather defeated looking, you know?” 

Emmet nodded, smiling a little. “At least he’s got someone to worry after him. Half of the time I don’t know who’s the better fighter, Isla or her uncle. She’s not always the doting sympathetic type. Still love her though. Hi dear!” He waved to Isla who appeared like she lived there. She probably did. 

“Mhm, gossiping about me?” She asked. 

“Never!” Emmet gasped and kissed her hello. Isla rolled her eyes at him and grabbed the kettle from the fire and moved around the kitchen, pouring tea for everyone. Cassandra accepted the mug with a small thanks. Emmet gave Isla another kiss. 

Cassandra made a face and looked away, found Will standing in the shadows. “Hi Will. How long have you been skulking there?” 

“Found him skulking outside.” Isla snuggled up to Emmet. Cassandra could see her eyes flick nervously to him. A rather common occurrence here. Will scrunched up his nose at Isla. She rolled her eyes, her fear fading a little. 

“He’s a Ranger, he always skulks no matter what. Hi Will.” Horace appeared by Cassandra. Will made a face at Horace, which he ignored. “Hi dear.” He kissed her cheek. She smiled brightly at him. He looked marginally better. She had to resist the urge to brush back his damp hair that stuck to his forehead.

“So you’re a princess.” Isla stared at Cassandra. 

Cassandra sighed. “I am Princess Cassandra of Araluen. I’m sorry for deceiving you all but with the turmoil going on in Picta and with happened, we decided that me going by an alias would be the best way to insure my safety.” 

“Don’t apologize, that’s a smart idea. There are a lot of people in Picta that probably want you dead, hell, I’d wager that there are people in this clan who want you dead. Not that I’m hating on my clan but Picta and Araluen have been enemies for years.” Isla shrugged and hid behind her mug. 

“Yeah, we figured.” 

“So what happened? What can we do?” Emmet asked. 

Horace looked over too Will, unsure what to say. Will sighed. “There was an attack from the MacFrewin clan against the princess. We’re here to speak with counsel. There’s not much you can do. It’s up to the counsel. Just look out for anything suspicious.” Will shook his head. 

“Actually Emmet, I want you to come with us when we ride to the counsel.” Horace put down his mug of tea and crossed his arms. Emmet looked like he was smacked in the face. “Why me?” He asked. 

Isla squinted at Horace. “Yeah, why him?” 

Horace ignored Isla’s glare. “Because you’re Araluen and have an upstanding oath to protect the Royal Family. Not that I don’t trust my men, I just want more men that know about Cassandra with me and know the stakes.” 

Cassandra thought that Horace was a little extreme. They were going to be riding with three Warmaidens and a troop of guards. Isla caught Cassandra’s eye and she seemed to have the same sentiment.   
“Better safe than sorry, right?” Emmet didn’t seem to share either of their sentiments. 

“That’s our whole plan.” Will shared a grim smile with Horace. 

“Enough about all this grim-dark talk. I want to know how you two managed to be a couple. Like seriously.” Isla plopped herself on the couch. 

“Me too. First thing he did was insulted my lake.” Cassandra went and joined her. She tentatively liked Isla now that she had some things squared away. 

“Fuck off. It wasn’t the first thing I did.” Horace made a face at Cassandra. She caught etches of amusement in his face as he crashed into the seat next to her. She smiled as she snuggled up to him, trying to steal the warmth that he generated. 


	17. Chapter 17

Before they left for the council, Horace made his way up to the small cliff-side where his family rested. It was tradition that every time he left Shal for something he’d go and say goodbye. Usually no one came up here except him so he was surprised to see Cassandra, of all people, sitting on the edge of the cliff, swinging her legs as she watched the village below. 

She looked up when he appeared. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Did Halt send you to look for me?” She grumbled. 

“No actually. I don’t think that he knows I’m up here. I didn’t know you were up here.” Horace sat next to her. “Everything alright?” 

Cassandra stared at her hands, her eyes were rimmed with red. “I don’t know. I just,” she waved her hands as her words failed her. “I know that dad said that you could stay home and I know that you and Isla were a thing. And I know that it’s stupid because she has a boyfriend but you’ve hiding things from me and I’m scared Horace. I’m scared because I’ve never done things these things before and I don’t know what’s going on.” 

He reached out to comfort her when she started crying but she pulled away. 

Horace sighed, rubbing his face. “Princess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t tell you about Isla and I because it was past history. I didn’t want to worry you. Sure when I first met you, I still had feelings for her but that was just me clinging onto a past version of her. The part of me that wanted to go back home to the Shal before the war.”

Her lips trembled as she pulled her legs to her chest, staring at him as he was at a loss for what to say. She sniffled loudly and wiped her eyes. 

She stared at the ground in front of her. “Isla told me that, you had a bit of a one track mind and assured me that if you said that things were done then they were done. But I don’t know. You just seem so relaxed and happy around her. I-I guess I’m just jealous of her. Things so easy between you two.” 

“That’s because we’ve been friends since we were in diapers. Isla’s my best friend princess, but you’re rather important to me too.” Horace knocked his shoulder gently against hers. That got a sad smile from her. “Look, not going to lie, I brush over things that you might-might deem important but I’m not a mind reader. I need you to tell me things, alright? I heard somewhere that communication is important.” 

“I just feel so lost. There’s too much going on. I’m about go to ask a council of people that hate me and my father to destroy another’s man life. I-I-I-I,” she trailed off, tears pouring out. 

This time she didn’t protest when Horace pulled her into a hug. She curled up in his arms and sobbed. His heart hurt, he didn’t know what to say to her about the council meeting other than he’d be there and so would Evanna and Aila but it didn’t work. 

He kissed her temple and gently rocked her until her sobs slowed down. 

“Sorry,” Cassandra mumbled, breaking the hug and stood up. 

“Cassie, don’t apologize for this. You have a right to feel like this. I mean, the first time I met your dad, I nearly threw up. Nerves are to be expected, alright?” Horace stood up, holding his hands up in front of him. 

Cassandra nodded, hugging herself for comfort. She gave him guilty eyes where it wasn’t needed.

“Now, what about this nonsense of me staying in Shal because your dad said I could?” Horace felt a little bewildered. The only person he’s talked to this about was McKentick and he wouldn’t snitch on Horace. 

Cassandra wiped her eyes again. “I heard him talk to Crowley. I’m not stupid. All you’ve talked about is going home and now you have the chance. Why wouldn’t you?” She waved her hands. 

That-that explained a lot. Why he felt like she was trying to protect herself from him. “Look, sure, your dad said I could go home and yeah for a while I wanted to go home but then I found someone that made me want to stay. I-I haven’t hammered out the details, wanting to deal with MacFrewin first. But even with the treaty that’s bound to follow, relations between the Scotti Clans and Araluens won’t be perfect. We need to keep at it, mending relationships. I’m the best candidate. So I figured I’d go back and help as much as I can,” Horace stumbled over his words, fear gripping his stomach. 

He didn’t want to lose her. She made him happy and she was amazing, the type of person that made Horace want to be better to be better for her.

She stared at him for a couple of seconds, registering the information that he just dumped on her. “Oh.” Her voice was small. “You’re not staying?” 

Horace couldn’t help but chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation. “No, I’m not.” 

She looked rather relieved. 

“But, I figured I’d stay for a bit, figure out what McAngus and NioLyall want in terms of the relationship what they want out of an alliance with Araluen. And depending on what happens, they might need all the hands they can get. But my point is that I’m coming back to you. I swear.” 

Her eyes were bright with tears but she looked hopeful. 

“I don’t know if there’s some sort of unbreakable oaths that Araluens take but I’ll swear on that, that one day I’ll ride up to Castle Araluen and the first thing I’ll do is find your pretty face and kiss you hello.” 

Cassandra snorted in laughter, covering her mouth in an attempt to smother her giggles, completely ruining the tension. “Gods, Horace, that’s so fucking corny.” 

Horace sighed and threw up his hands. “Is this what I get for trying to be romantic?” He demanded, turning towards, well, his family’s graves and his amused annoyance sort of fizzled out. Right. 

“I’m sorry.” Cassandra was still giggling, but it felt distant. Like she was on another plane of existence. All Horace could see was the smooth round stones rooted in front him. “Horace?” He felt her hand on his jaw, tilting his head to her. “Hey, you there?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Horace slipped an arm around her waist. “It’s just..” He stared back the stones unhappily. 

“What are they?” Cassandra whispered. “They aren’t like something religiously important that I accidentally defiled?” 

“No.” Horace shook his head. “No, they’re graves actually. My family’s.” 

“Oh.” 

Yeah. 

“There’s three.” 

“Yeah. The middle one is my sister’s. She survived the raid but not the winter after.” Horace wondered sometimes what his sister would be like she survived. With Isla’s influence, she’d be a pain in Horace’s ass. 

“How old was she?” 

“About two.” 

“I’m so sorry, Horace.” 

Horace shrugged it off, fiddling with his father’s ring. “I don’t remember her well. It’s just empty space around when I think back.” He’s never had the idea of a perfect family that almost everyone had. He couldn’t remember his parents well. Just an idea of them. 

Cassandra hand gently took his hand and gently tugged at him. “Come on, let’s go.” She squeezed his hand. Horace let her. He numbly headed down the cliff side. “I’ll meet you by the stables in a bit okay?” She asked.   
  
“Yeah.” Like a good boyfriend he kissed her goodbye, but there was no real emotion behind it. “See you.” 

She gave him one last squeeze and headed off. Horace shook his head and slipped into his own home. He wasn’t surprised to see Isla there, cooking something that smelled delicious. “You look horrible.” 

“Thanks Isl.” Horace rolled his eyes as he grabbed Leldir from the mantel and showed him in his pack and strap his armour on. 

“Were you visiting your folks?” 

Horace grunted in lieu of a response, hoping she would understand that he didn’t want to talk about it, and grabbed his sword in its scabbard and his shield. He went down his mental list to make sure he had everything. 

“Horace?” 

Horace looked up and frowned, something about her tone made him worry. 

She was playing with a small hand towel nervously. “Be nice to Emmet. He’s really sweet and I know he wouldn’t admit it to me, but he looks up to you. You’re the general who saved him and I know it’s killing him, stupidly, that he’s dating your ex. So be nice? Don’t be a mean protective friend. I like him a lot.” 

“Isl. If I didn’t like or trust him, I wouldn’t be asking him to come. I wouldn’t put Cassandra in danger like that.” 

Her face softened and Horace’s face turned red. “You must really like her.” 

“Yeah, well she met the family today. So she must be something special.” Horace hiked his bag up.

“Oh. Wow. Did you?” Isla pointed to the hillside. 

Horace shook his head, understanding what she was asking. “No, she just headed up there and I found her there while saying goodbye to my family. It was weird.” Isla pressed her lips in a tight line and nodded. 

“I’m not trying to say anything against her, but keep your wits together, Horace. You’ve known her for only a month?” 

She had a point. “I know, but there’s something there that I don’t want to accidentally lose but I get what you’re saying. She’s rather enchanting.”   
  
“Ugh. Sap.” Isla made a face at him. Horace flipped her off. 

“I’ll see you in a couple days. Stay out of trouble.” 

“You too, bitch.” Isla waved him off. Horace smiled and headed out. He was pleased to see that the small group of troops that he put together were mostly there waiting for him and someone had saddled Kicker for him. 

Coming along with them were Emmet, Kian, Lachlan, and Frazer. He’d wanted to take Murray too but had decided against it. Horace decided that along with Halt and Will’s skills with their bows and the training that the Warmaidens went through that it’d be enough to protect Cassandra and Cora. Both of them had training too. 

Horace found Cassandra in the stables, leading her horse out. “Hey, I wanted to give you this.” He passed a small bundle to her. She dropped the reins and took it from him. Frowning, slightly she unfurled the cloak that he had borrowed from Isla. Her frown furthered when she looked over to him. Horace gently took the cloak and helped her pin it properly. “You were given the ranger’s cloak to blend in Araluen but you’ll stick out like a sore thumb here with it. Now, you’ll look like a Warmaiden. It’ll help you blend in more. Just trying keeping you safe.” He cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Cassandra looked to the tartan around her and seemed to have an air of amusement to her. “You know, I’ve wanted to be wrapped up in one of these. Just thought that it’d be yours.” 

That was unexpected. Horace held back an embarrassing squeak. He dropped his hands and tried to come back with something but failed. He reddened under her smirk. “I’m going to gloss over that for the time being but I will be returning to that in due time.” 

“Mhm. Help me up?” Horace dutifully helped her up, suddenly mindful of where his hands were. 

He turned to Kicker, who he swore was giving him a raised eyebrow, and made a face at the horse. “Shut up,” he muttered. Kicker just snorted and shook his head. 

Everyone except Cora and Evanna were waiting for them.

A second later, the door banged open and Cora hurried out. “Sorry!” She apologized, rushing to the stables. 

Horace shook his head fondly and looked over to Halt, whose face was stormy. “Something wrong? You going to push me?” Horace asked. 

Halt tossed a glare to Horace but it fell flat. “A troop this size will draw attention, unwanted attention. It’ll be hard to be able to detect anything with the noise that we’ll be making.” 

“It was a smart idea to dress Evanlyn as one of you,” Will noted. 

“Thank you. And don’t worry about that, Halt. Protocol is send someone ahead to scout and someone behind to sweep. We switch it up every couple of hours. We’re all trained hunters and are good at spotting unwanted eyes. Remember the signals I taught you?” They were a series of different bird calls. Will nodded emphatically while Halt rose an eyebrow at Horace.

Horace ignored Halt’s eyebrow as McAngus and Evanna came out. McAngus came marching over to Horace, who got off of Kicker. “Keep them safe, Altman.” His voice cracked. Horace suddenly felt very small. He had almost all of McAngus’ family, Aila had decided to remain back to lessen the tension, in his safety as well as Cassandra. No wonder McKentick was always so stressed when they went somewhere with Evanna. 

“I’ll guard them with my life. As will everyone here.” Horace looked over the battle-worn group. 

McAngus’ worried look settled a little. Evanna kissed her husband’s cheek. “I’ll be fine, dear. I trust Horace.” 

“I know I know. I can’t help but worry.” McAngus shook his head as his wife got onto her horse. He sighed and looked to Cassandra. “Good luck. I’ll be praying for you.” 

Her cheeks tinged pink. “Thank you.” 

McAngus gave Horace once last glare and then stood on the porch, watching them leave.   
***  
They had made good distance before it got too dark to travel any further. So they set up a small camp of the edge of the road, Evanna and Halt moved off to the side to discuss the upcoming meeting, something Horace luckily didn’t have to worry about. All he had to do was go in say his piece and let the Warmaidens and Cassandra do the talking. 

Horace finished his round of patrols and headed back to the fire where the rest of the group was huddled around. He sat next to Cassandra and she huddled under his arm. 

“So boss, tell us about Araluen. How was it? Heard they got a princess around our age. Heard she’s pretty pretty too. Is it true?” Kian asked, twirling a knife. Under Horace’s arm, Cassandra tensed and he saw her hand went to her dirk still strapped to her side. 

Kian was a good soldier, large and well muscled man with his head shaved down and a thick scar running down his eye, but he didn’t know how to hold his tongue. “I suggest next time you think through a comment next time as you are surrounded by Araluens, who are more than happy to defend their princess.” Horace’s voice was icy cold. 

Kian paled and his eyes flickered over too Will, who just raised an eyebrow at him, and Emmet, who was full out glaring at him. 

“I’d be more concerned with Warmaiden NioAila. She’s pretty handy with a knife and the lady here, took down one of the assassins.” Horace patted Cassandra’s side. 

“Sorry miladies. My mouth moved before my brain,” Kian apologized. Cassandra seemed to relax. 

“Obviously,” Emmet muttered. 

“S’alright Kian!” Cora said cheerfully. “The princess is rather attractive but that isn’t just because of her looks but because of her sharp wit and skill with a sling.” Horace saw Cassandra turned a little pink but smiled to herself. He gently nudged her, she nudged him back. 

“A lady who can take care of herself. Sounds like someone who tickles my fancy.” 

“Perhaps Kian, we shouldn’t be talking about a lady who isn’t here to defend herself. It is rather gross.” Frazer nudged Kian with a displeased look. Kian, thankfully getting some brains, shut up. 

Frazer wasn’t the most intimidating man, with a slim build and soft blonde hair, but he was a beast with a sword and good with people. 

“How do you all know Horace?” Horace heard Will ask. 

“Ah, we all served under the bastard.” Lachlan nudged Horace and smirked. Horace pushed him away. 

“Aye! A bit of a hard-ass but like a good one. Always had our back and saved our asses in battle.” Kian was an idiot but was rather genuine. It warmed his heart. “Saved your ass too, Emmet. Hey, you were a fancy soldier right?” 

“I was apart of the Royal Regiment, yes. If you’re going to talk about the princess, I’m going to actively encourage Will to stab you,” Emmet snapped. 

“Nah, nah. I just wanna know if you’re a lord. A lofty change.” 

“Mams run a dining hall. We’re far from rich. I just got lucky,” Emmet slouched in his seat. 

“Real lucky. I wish Isla gave me the time of day,” Lachlan mumbled. They were all around the same age and Horace was aware of them when they were younger but they were never good friends. Horace and Isla liked to enjoy each other’s company and not the other kids. Lachlan flushed when he realized that he said it out loud. 

Cora agreed. “She’s pretty great and really talented. Like have you seen her work. Amazing. I have to get her show me her technique.” She sighed and smiled blissfully. Kian elbowed her jokingly. Cora turned red. 

“How did you convince Isla to go out with you? She’s always been rather distant from most people.” Frazer asked Emmet. 

“Except the general! Somehow he managed to be her friend.” 

“It’s because I’m not an asshole like the rest of you,” Horace mumbled before he could stop himself. He didn’t really mean it. 

“Sure.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. 

“You did insult her lake,” Will pointed out. 

“For fucks’ sake.” Horace groaned and put his face in his hands. The group around him burst into laughter. “Hate you,” Horace mumbled too Will. Will ignored him. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure why Isla decided to like me. First time I met her, I literally ran into her, causing her to spill soup on herself. Straight up thought that she was going to kill me.” Emmet shook his head. 

“Sounds like her.” Horace hummed in agreement. There was a lull in the conversation and Horace stood up. “We should be turning in soon. Frazer, Kian, first shift. Lachlan, Emmet take the second one. Will and I will take the last one.” 

“Aye Aye.” They chorused. 

Horace decided to do one last check before turning into bed. He checked on the horses when he ran, literally, into Emmet. “Whoa, hello. Something wrong?” Horace asked. 

Emmet shrugged, his arms crossed tight against his chest. “You didn’t bring me along because of Isla, right?” His voice was strained. 

“Emmet.” Emmet looked up, his eyes wide with fear. “I wouldn’t bring you along, potentially putting Evanna, Cora, and Evanlyn all who have choice male family members riding on my ass about their safety, if I didn’t know that you were good. I was in Araluen for a while. I saw the Royal Regiment train, you’re good. If Murray ever gets a promotion, which I assume he probably might, then I think that you could get Captain.” 

Emmet scoffed and kicked a lump of snow. “Right, because they’ll promote an Araluen.” 

“I mean, my dad was Captain. He was the most Araluen person you can think of.” 

“I guess.” Emmet still looked a little melancholy. 

“And yeah, maybe I did bring you along because of Isla, but that’s because I trust her judgment and if she trusts you then I trust you. Now I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.” Horace patted Emmet on the shoulder and headed to his tent.   
***  
As they approached the campground for the counsel, Horace started to get nervous. He didn’t know if it was because Cassandra’s nerves overwhelming Horace or what. Or maybe it was the fact that Evanna left to go discuss something the other warmaidens pre-meeting and was out of Horace’s line of vision and he was starting to get nervous. 

Will had taken Cassandra into the woods to hunt to relieve some stress. Halt was just stalking around camp. 

“You okay?” Cora asked, spotting Horace start to pace for the utmost time. 

Horace paused, looking over to the small figure who was perched on a fallen log with her eyebrows arched. Horace sighed and shrugged. “I’m worried. I know that it seems stupid but your grandmother has been gone for too long, I’m just a little nervous.” 

It was his first escort trip, he was just worried. He was sure that McKentick felt the same way that he did when he first started doing these things. 

“She’ll be fine. She’s been doing this for years. Relax, Horace.” Cora rolled her eyes and patted the seat the log next to her. Horace sighed and sat next to her, burying his face in his hands. She rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him. “You’re wound up so tight.” 

Horace sighed and looked up. “I just feel like, I don’t know. Stressed?” 

“I mean, you are in charge of keeping us safe and after the fiasco that seanair pulled, I don’t blame you but you’ve got a security detail chalk full of men who are willing to do the same. Did you know that in Araluen, there’s a saying, ‘one riot, one ranger’? And here’s two.” 

She had a point. If they made it this far without many attacks on them, then the counsel, security wise, should be fine. 

“Better?” Cora hummed. 

“Yeah.” Horace’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry for not being a good friend recently.”

“It’s alright. We’ve both been busy, trying to catch up with people we haven’t seen in awhile. Plus the raid and everything.” Cora dropped her head on Horace’s shoulder. 

“And you making heart eyes at Kian,” Horace teased. He saw how Kian was always at her side, helping her down from her horse and the sneaking looks she gave him when she thought no one was looking. 

She turned bright red in response and Horace had to hide a grin. 

“Though, I heard some whispers that you were a blushing mess around a certain attorney.” Horace nudged her. 

Cora’s face was as red as a tomato. She groaned and buried herself in her cloak. “Did Alyss tell you that?” Horace nodded. She groaned and pulled the cloak further over her face. “They came to visit me afterwards. He was so sweet in awkward away. I can’t help it! I get crushes on like anyone who pays attention to me.” 

“Does that mean you had a crush on me?” Horace jokingly asked. He didn’t expect her to answer. 

“A little.” Her voice muffled by this point. “Then you started acting like the big brother I never had. Kinda killed the crush.” If Horace’s parents had survived that raid, there could be a chance that he could have been a surrogate big brother. Their moms were friends and Cora wasn’t that much younger than Horace. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up!” He couldn’t help but laugh. “So what’s going to happen to you and Evanlyn?” She asked, finally peeking out from her cloak. 

“I’m going back to Araluen. Help bridge relations and such. Plus I have to figure out my father’s estate. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be a lord. Can you imagine that?” 

Cora scoffed. “You barely enough have patience to deal with your own men, let alone the duties of being a lord.” 

“Especially one of such importance that this one is.” Horace shook his head. “I dunno. Maybe my cousin is a decent bloke. If not I’ll find someone down the line who’s halfway decent.” 

“I’m sure you’ll find someone.” 

Horace was saved from responding at the return of Evanna. “Warmaiden! How was the meeting?” Horace asked, taking the reins from her as she got off of her horse then promptly passed it off to Lachlan as Evanna started walking to her tent. Evanna waved to Cora, who probably and wisely decided to not get involved, and Cora waved back and watching them with mild amusement. 

“Well, I have permission to bring you into the council. The First Ones made no reaction to me asking. There’s no way that the Rangers will be able to pass the threshold.” 

Great. 

“I’ll speak with them. Go get some rest, we’re going to need you tomorrow.” 

This wasn’t going to end well. 

“You’re starting to sound like Neil.” Evanna rolled her eyes. 

“Yes well, he is my Warlord and I take his orders seriously. And I was ordered to look after you and Cora.” 

Evanna patted his face, an action that felt rather motherly. “You’re too good for us. Don’t overstress yourself. You’re doing a wonderful job.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Horace respectfully bowed and left her to gather her thoughts.

Cora was still sitting where Horace had left her. “You know, I don’t really remember Seanair and   
máthair mhór talking about much when I’d visit when I was younger, but you seem rather well known to them.” 

Horace made a face and shrugged. “I’m not really. She’s just got a soft spot for me because, well during the raid that took my parents, I, uh I grabbed my little sister and hid. Evanna found me in the Warlord’s house after the raid, trying to calm my crying sister down and after McKentick took me in, he’d take me on trips sometimes to get me used to the army since. I became the adopted child of his guard detail and your máthair mhór was usually on those trips.” 

“Horace, I’m sorry, your life is so sad but that’s adorable.” Cora sighed, pouting at him. She thankfully didn’t press the matter of his sister. 

“I know. It’s real bad. Uh, you seen Halt anywhere? I need to talk to him.” 

“Go to the edge of the camp and you’ll find him. I think he’s been doing laps.” 

“Well I’m going to talk to him. If you get bored, I’ll allow Kian to be distracted until Evanlyn comes back.” Horace cackled as he danced back as Cora tried to hit him. “I’ll be back! Have fun!” He sang as he headed out. 

Cora crossed her arms and glared at him. 

Horace chuckled to himself as he made his way to the edge of the camp where he found Halt glaring into the trees. “You know, your glaring really doesn’t help to convince people that you’re not a sorcerer who deals in black magic.” 

“Do you ever shut up?” Halt snapped. 

Horace didn’t take offence. “Nope! Uh, you okay?” 

“Will and Evanlyn haven’t come back yet. There are other clans camping in these woods.” 

“Both Will and Evanlyn survived in Skandia where the whole country was pretty much out for them and was when they were younger. Imagine how much better they are now. Besides, Evanlyn has her cloak. They won’t think she’s Araluen. They’ll think she’s McAngus.” 

“Hm.” Halt frowned more. “You have a point.” 

“Look, we’re all on edge. That’s understandable, but we’re doing the best we can. And honestly I can’t tell who’s worse. You, King Duncan, or McAngus.” 

Horace grinned when Halt glared at him. “What do you want, Horace?” 

“Evanna’s back.” Halt’s eyebrow went up in curiosity. “I’m allowed to attend but you and Will will have to stay here with the rest of the guards.” 

Horace winced, waiting for Halt to blow up at him. All Halt did was glare at him. “I’m not leaving Evanlyn. I don’t trust the idea of her going into a place that I haven’t been to a potential trap. Especially if anyone from MacFrewin’s clan is there,” he snapped. 

There was a lot of things that Horace could let slide, his father taught him to take the high road, to let his accomplishments act for him, but he could not sit idly when an outsider attacked a sacred place of his home. 

“Listen here. The counsel of Warmaidens is an incredibly sacred thing. Evanlyn and I will be the first non-warmaiden to set foot within the sacred stones in over a hundred years. The space within the stones is where peace is made. Our ancestors watch over us. I will not have it defiled because some interloper decided that he can’t stop being some conspiratorial nut for one day and trust the people who have lived and grown up within this culture. Warmaiden NioLyall has been going these meetings for years. She was there when Warmaiden NioUna from the MacFrewin clan was there too, to ask for the end of the war. She came out unscathed, what makes you think that Cassandra will be any fucking different?” Horace tried to keep his voice down as to not alert the others. 

The whole idea of Horace, or anyone who wasn’t a Warmaiden, going up there terrified Horace. There were rules when it came to the sacred stones. Gethys watched over the Warmaidens and would dole out justice to interlopers. 

Horace had to keep everyone safe. For once Halt kept his mouth shut. 

“You Rangers do nothing to dispel the notion of you being black magic users, do you honestly think that Warmaidens would be open to discussing politics with you? Do you not think that the sight of you would ensue panic and any sense of peace we have built will be dispelled? In fact what I think happened is the council will side with MacFrewin and destroy my clan for brining you two in. They will think we are traitors and we will be in even more danger!” Horace finished his rant with his chest heaving, matching Halt’s glare. The First Ones would react poorly to foreigners tramping over their graves. 

“Halt.” Cassandra’s voice was soft and appeared to Horace’s left. 

Both of them looked over to Cassandra and Will. Both of them looked gravely serious. “I can do it. I trust Horace and the counsel.” 

“Also, no weapons are allowed within the circle,” Horace muttered. 

Halt sighed, not looking really pleased. “Halt, seriously. We’d be putting Evanlyn in danger. Besides, if we go, we’d be breaking some norms within the culture. Even if we get what we want, we’d be creating even more distance by completely disregarding what’s important to them,” Will said. 

“I hate it when you all make sense. You’re right, Horace,” Halt grumbled. 

“Say that again? Please?” Horace batted his eyelashes at Halt. 

“I’d rather be run over by a stampede of horses.” Halt brushed past Horace and headed back to camp.

Horace giggled but was elbowed by Cassandra. He could see a bit of a smile there. “Did you guys get anything? I’m hungry.” 

“When are you not?” Will scoffed as he headed to campfire. 

“He’s never not hungry. Honestly, thought we were going to die from the lack of food before being skewered the enemy,” Lachlan joked, accepting the rabbits from Will. Will and Lachlan had been elected as the designated cooks of the group. 

“Why am I always the butt of the joke?” Horace grumbled. 

“You make it too easy, boss.” Kian sprawled out on the ground. 

“You’d think that being friends with Isla, you’d have thicker skin by now,” Emmet commented mildly. 

“Excuse you, Isla is the one had to grow thick skin. You think I wasn’t being just as mean to her, then you’ve got it all wrong. If you don’t believe me ask Evanlyn. Apparently, she’s still mad that I insulted her lake. Out of everything, she’s still mad at that.” Horace nudged Cassandra. She stuck out her tongue at him He smirked at her.   
  
“Children. All of you,” Halt grumbled.   
  
“You know Ranger, the more you complain the less terrifying you are. I hope you know that.” Frazer appeared out of the woods from patrol. He whacked Kian in the shoulder as a hello and sat next to him. Cora was perched on Kian’s left side, watching him and Frazer with vivid attentiveness. 

Horace didn’t know if Kian could see it but Cora was crushing so hard but it was rather obvious to him. Horace nudged Cassandra and nodded towards Kian. Cassandra cooed softly and returned the smile. 

It was strangely calm. Like the calm before the storm. Or Horace was just being ridiculous. 


	18. Chapter 18

Day was breaking when they were suppose to go to the council. Cassandra had a quick breakfast that was washed down with coffee. Even though it was early, everyone was up. Will had made breakfast while the rest of the group hustled around the campsite. 

Horace had donned his kilt and war paint with mild grumbling. Cora and Evanna had gone to the river with the small tins of paint that Cassandra knew Horace had and started drawing intricate symbols in blue paint. 

Cassandra also guessed that the ornate dresses that they both wore was their version of a kilt. They looked uncomfortable. 

They were tired but cheerful. Cassandra noticed Kian had been the one to go to help Cora saddle her horse. It seemed that Cora wasn’t the only one crushing on him. Horace caught Cassandra’s eye and smirked. 

As the four of them were preparing to go, Horace turned to the small group of men, two of them, Kian, not surprising, and Frazer, a little more surprising, had began to wrestle. Why? Cassandra had no idea. 

“I wish Murray was here.” Horace sighed dejectedly. 

“Why?” Will scoffed. 

“Because at least he’s the responsible one that could wrangle them under control.” Horace shook his head. Halt grunted, not taking his eyes off of the two men. 

The other two, Lachlan and Emmet had come back from gathering more firewood and just stared at Kian and Frazer in confusion but not in surprise. They just shrugged it off. 

“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Horace muttered. He put his pinkies in his mouth and whistled. It was loud and shrill. Cassandra dropped the reins to Rosie and covered her ears. Everyone copied her actions expect Kian and Frazer. 

They both shot up, hands to their foreheads in salute. 

“At least they listen to commands well.” Halt sort of praised them. 

“Sorry boss,” Frazer apologized. 

“Sure.” Horace didn’t looked like he believed them. “I’m leaving so I’m leaving Lachlan and Halt in charge. Lachlan, listen to Halt. I know he’s annoying but he’s pretty smart when it comes to these things. Please don’t burn down the camp site.” 

“Yes sir.” Lachlan tried to salute but dropped his firewood. He just stared at the fallen wood in disappointment. 

Kian shambled over to Cora, who was trying to hold back a grin. “You should have won.” She patted his chest.   
  
“You think?” His face immediately brightened up as Cora nodded. Cassandra had to turn away at how sappy his face was. 

Horace sighed and turned to Halt. “Don’t kill them.”

“I’ll try not too.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it,” Will said cheerfully. 

Cassandra rolled her eyes and turned to grab Rosie’s reins before she got away. She got up onto Rosie and looked over her shoulder. Horace had moved to help Evanna up onto her horse. Kian had already taken the initiative and helped Cora up onto her horse. 

“I’m off, boys. I take no responsibility to what the Rangers do. Be back whenever.” Horace climbed up onto Kicker and waved goodbye to them. 

“Have fun boss!”

“Don’t die!” 

There were a few other scattered comments as they rode out.   
***  
As they sun rose, it started to get misty and chilling. Cassandra pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and looked to Horace. He looked mystified, staring around him in wonder and slight tinge of fear. Cora was in the same state. 

It made Cassandra feel nervous that the man who seemed so in control of everything, even face to face with assassins or his uncle that tried to kill his father, was scared about this. What was this place holding? The reached the break in the forest, pretty much at the top of the hill, and Evanna slid off her horse. Horace followed suit and helped Cassandra and Cora down from their horses. They tied off their horses near a water trough and slowly made their way up the perfectly round hill. 

Cassandra stole Horace’s hand as the mist got stronger around them. “It’ll be okay.” Horace squeezed her hand. 

It didn’t feel like it. 

It felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn’t swallow properly. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt a pair of eyes on her. She quickly looked over her shoulder and saw nothing but shadows in the mist. 

“Máthair mhór will probably do most of the talking. Don’t worry.” Cora winked at Cassandra. Her full face paint was unnerving to Cassandra. It was hard to focus and see her actual features. Horace’s paint wasn’t elaborate. Though Cora was a member of what was equivalent to a royal family. 

“It’s good to be worried,” Evanna interjected. “Then you won’t get cocky and stab yourself in the foot accidentally.” 

“Or not,” Cora muttered. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Cassandra cracked a smile. It soon vanished when she saw the stones. A round arch with cracked stones that was filled with dirt and fallen snow. A distant hum filled Cassandra’s ears and through the shadows of the forest, she thought she saw something. A figure perhaps. 

She stepped off of the path, to the figure standing on top of the arch. There was a certain feeling that washed over her. Nothing threatening, just a sense of righteousness. That what Cassandra was going to do was right. The soft humming painfully cut out when she was pulled back onto the path. She blinked heavily and stared at the worried faces. 

“Don’t stray from the path. The First Ones don’t take lightly to those who touch their homes,” Evanna warned before starting up again. 

First Ones? 

Cassandra looked to Horace for explanation. His face paled at the motion of the name. 

“First Ones?” Cassandra whispered. She felt like she needed to whisper. 

“The first Warmaidens.” Horace’s reply was short and to the point as his eyes skittered across the trees. His hand went to where he kept his sword. 

Thoroughly shaken, Cassandra kept after the group, that calm feeling that she had was gone and the feeling that she was being watched was back. 

Soon she saw the first stone. It was tall, three times taller than herself, and weathered. It stood tall despite its age, reaching for the thin shafts of sunlight that appeared through the mist. The next stone was the same height but had a large heavy stone laying across it vertically. She wondered how the ancients had gotten the stones up there. 

The mist seemed to part in the middle of the stone circle, eerily leaving only the middle of the circle clear. 

Just within the stone circle were sixteen small, bleached white, grave-like stones that where also in a circle. Every few seconds, figures seemed to appear out of the mist, almost gliding through to the stone graves. The distinct blue paint of the Scotti clans was almost the only thing visible through the heavy mist. 

Across the circle there was an older woman with silver hair and burning hatred in her eyes. But the woman who stood behind the marker to the left had with pale red hair, wild eyes, and a tartan similar to the McAngus’ clan. She caught Cassandra’s eye and winked. 

The pain her stomach lessoned. 

Every Warmaiden stepped up to their markers, leaving one empty. For a second the air around that marker was tense and painful, like an old wound being reopened. 

“Why is that one empty?” Cassandra whispered to Horace, pointing subtly to the marker across from them. 

He frowned at the marker. “It must be a marker for what used to be McFleming Clan. The spot hasn’t been filled since the last Warmaiden was executed.” 

Cassandra turned back to the marker in horror. Just past the marker, in the shadows there wasn’t a shadowy figure like she’d seen. This one was larger, angrier and had eyes that mirrored the pain that she felt when looking at the marker. 

A tall, whose pale blond hair was slowly being spun to silver, woman stepped forward. Under her cloak Cassandra could see the glint of gold and jewels. “Welcome sisters, general, to the council. Warmaiden NioLyall, if you may?” She gestured to the perfectly clear bleached white stones that had a swirling pattern going inwards. 

“That’s Warmaiden NioIna. She’s from the McFergus clan. They control the majority of the East coast. Do lots of trading with Gallica and Skandia,” Horace whispered. 

“Of course.” Evanna bowed her head and picked up a pitcher of what Cassandra assumed to be wine. She started chanting in Pictan, holding up the pitcher of wine. Soon the other women took up the chant. It was a low, powerful chant that was amplified by all fifteen voices. 

It sent a chill down Cassandra’s spine. 

She watched, transfigured as Evanna approached the circle, crouching and pouring the wine into the spiral. It slowly filled the circle, racing to the centre. As it got closer, the chanting picked up pace. Her heartbeat matched the tempo of the chant. 

Distantly she could hear drums thrumming, though it could be her heart beat. 

The chanting got faster and faster until the wine got to the centre of the circle until it came to a rapid close. The sudden stop caused Cassandra to have whiplash. 

Evanna held up the empty pitcher and said something to the sky. 

“May Gethys and the First Ones appreciate the offering and watch over us and guide us in our decisions,” Horace translated softly to Cassandra’s ear. 

Right, right, right. 

She resisted the urge to grab his hand to calm her down. She had to remain professional.

“I would like to know why these interlopers are in our most sacred space. I always knew that your were daft Evanna, sending your daughter to Araluen to marry a Baron, but this is a new low for you,” The woman with the wild eyes and silver hair snarled. They began to speak in the Trader’s tongue so Cassandra could understand them. 

“Warmaiden NioUna, Warmaiden to the MacFrewin Clan.” Cassandra got that part. She recognized the cloak. For comfort, she took a step closer to Horace. 

“Oi! Don’t you be calling Evanna that Aileen! You’re the daft cow who went against the council and started the fucking war with the Araluens. If it ain’t for you and your husband, my clan and Evanna’s wouldn’t be fucking tatters. Don’t sit on your fucking high horse. We’re the ones who’s land got destroyed by the war. Our men dead. What have you been doing to honour our treaty? Hun? Nothing!” The woman with red hair yelled at Aileen. 

“Warmaiden NioErin. McAngus’ sister. Warmaiden to the MacArthur clan. Our sister clan.” Cassandra was very thankful for Horace’s explanations. She could see the same wildness that her brother had. 

“Deirdre,” Evanna chided. Deirdre shrugged and stepped back. Evanna turned back to Aileen. “I asked the First Ones for permission to bring them there. Unless you wish to go against their ruling, Aileen, I suggest you ought to keep your mouth shut.” 

There were murmurs amongst the group. 

“They’re Araluens!” Aileen protested. 

“General Horace Altman was born and raised in Picta. His father rejected his Araluen heritage and became Captain of the City Guard. He died to protect our clan. He was a clan member and so is Horace. Do not be attacking the credentials of my General!” 

“He sides with Araluens. He saved Araluen soldiers, putting a strain on your resources!” 

“And we were happy to do it! If we didn’t, we’d be just as bad as the asshole who attacked our outposts at night, massacring our men. We may not enjoy or even like Araluens but we have decency and that decency prevents us from leaving innocent men who got drafted into a war that they didn't start to die. You preach how you’re always better than the Araluens, but in fact you are worse Aileen. You honour nothing. Not even the sanctity of human life!” Deirdre yelled. 

Shit. Cassandra suddenly felt very small in her body. She suddenly realized that maybe Halt was right to be mad that he couldn’t come. These people wanted her dead. She didn’t think things through. 

“If you don’t mind, Warmaidens,” Horace stepped up next to Evanna. If he was scared from all of the attention that he was getting, he didn’t show. 

“Continue, General,” NioIna said. 

“The man responsible for those night attacks has been arrested for his crimes. He is currently awaiting trail back in Araluen under the orders of the King and his Rangers.” 

“Hm? And how did you accomplish this?” NioIna asked. It seemed that she had decided to be the mediator between Evanna and Deirdre and Aileen. She seemed rather impartial. 

“Well, he was the lord of an estate that joined Araluen under a clause that the lord couldn’t be arrested by the King for some bullshit reason. So I kicked him out - because he’s my uncle. He only became the lord after he chased my father out. So I reclaimed my birthright and handed him over to the king, who is more than happy to send him to trial.” 

There were murmurs across the circle. Many of them looked pleased. 

Horace pulled the letters from MacFrewin from his satchel. “During the search of my estate, King’s Rangers found these letters, sealed with the house symbol of MacFrewin, detailing the best place and time to send assassins to kill the Princess Cassandra.” 

The murmurs increased, buzzing filled Cassandra’s ears. 

“Lies!” Aileen screeched. 

“Silence!” NioIna yelled. The buzzing stopped. “General, may I see these letters.” 

“Of course, Warmaiden.” Horace mindfully stepped past the marker, avoiding the stone spiral in the middle and gave the letters to NioIna. 

He stepped back next to Evanna as NioIna read the letters. Her frown deepened as she flickered through the letters. “What are you accusing here, General? The discussion of murdering the Crown Princess of Araluen?” She asked. 

“No, I’m accusing MacFrewin of staging and executing an attempt of the life of Princess Cassandra and nearly murdering Warmaiden NioAila in the process.” 

A sharp gasp echoed across the stones. 

“Where is your proof? If this is the case, why is the princess or the king here? Do they not trust us enough to send one of their own families here to plead their case instead of just sending you?” A Warmaiden yelled. 

Horace seemed to flounder. He looked to Evanna for help. 

It was now or never. Cassandra took in a deep breath and stepped forward, gently pushing Horace back. She lowered her hood and stood in front of thirty eyes, that she could see, staring at her. “My name is Cassandra Serenne, Crown Princess of Araluen and I’m here in front of you, pleading for you help. About a month ago, during a party that my father and I were hosting, I was attacked by a band of Scotti Warriors, all of them wearing the tartan of the MacFrewin clan, as it has been positively identified by General Altman, Warmaidens NioAila, NioEvanna, NioLyall, and Warlord McAngus. We do not wish to keep continuing bloodshed but there we cannot see any other way to stop this.” 

She waved her hand behind her to Horace and thankfully he understood and produced one of the cloaks that they had taken with them.   
  
“Alright,” NioIna said slowly. “There has been a clear link established. Tell me Princess Cassandra, what is your suggestion then?” 

Cassandra took in a calming breath before moving on. “I come before the counsel of Warmaidens to ask for the Ostracization of the clan leader of the MacFrewin clan.” 

She winced at the explosion of noise from the Warmaidens. Some chattering in excitement, Some like Deidre were yelling in their support, and some were hurling insults at Cassandra. She stayed rock solid in place as the noise increased. 

A shrill whistle silenced them. NioIna seemed to be the only blank face in the group. “Princess Cassandra, you do realize that what you are asking is one of our harshest punishments? That it will not just be MacFrewin who will be punished but all of his clan?” 

“I understand and I would not ask of this from the council if my father and I did not feel like this were our only viable option.” 

Evanna stepped up next to Cassandra and put a hand on her shoulder. “My husband and I also support this decision. The MacFrewin clan did not just attack the Royal family of Araluen, but my granddaughter and our general that we sent to keep the peace who stationed in Araluen.” 

“Did you kill these men, General Altman?” Aileen asked, her voice raspy and her eyes flickering quickly across the circle. 

“I did.” 

“Then the problem has been taken care of, is it not?” She asked. Cassandra could see some who were starting to take her side. 

“It is not!” Cassandra protested. “Just because Horace took out the weapon, does not mean that the man behind the weapon. These men were the puppets and MacFrewin is the puppet-master, indicated by the letters found by the Rangers.” 

“How-how-how..” Aileen started spouting off, looking like a cornered animal. 

“I would also like to add that not only has MacFrewin tried to restart the war that nearly killed both my clan and Deidre’s but he had deliberately gone against and used our treaties to his advantage. He knew we’d honour the treaties. We went with him to war. Lost men and supplies and what has he given us in return? My granddaughter nearly bleeding out because MacFrewin can’t admit defeat.” 

“Look, we know that MacFrewin will try again.” Cora stepped up next to her grandmother, clutching something in her fist. “He was the angriest out of all because of the end of the war. He even sent out his own blood to try to kill the princess. If he sent out his own blood to try to kill the princess, on essentially a suicide mission, do you all seriously think that he wouldn’t try again? All he sees his men as are pawns to achieve a means to an end. That’s not how a Warlord should act. I saw the assassin try to attack the princess but took it instead because I don’t want war to happen against between my two homes. Enough innocent blood has been shed on both sides. Please, I beg of the council to think of not just yourselves and your husbands but the men and women you swore to protect.” 

“What do you mean blood?” Aileen whispered. Her wild eyes dimmed 

Cora stepped towards her, holding out her closed fist. “Warmaiden NioUna. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I wish that it didn’t have to end like this.” 

She dropped something, the signet ring that they had discovered, into Aileen’s outstretched hand. The whole counsel stared at her, and with trembling hands she picked up the ring. Cassandra could see the grief blooming. 

“Oh, Gethys deliver that bastard to Finas’ domain,” Deidre cursed. 

She didn’t know. 

She didn’t know that her husband sent out one of her family members. That he had been killed. 

Aileen let out shrieking wail and collapsed onto the ground. Cora was holding her in her arms a second later, trying to comfort her. 

NioIna looked over to Cassandra and Horace for confirmation. “The family ring,” Horace explained quietly. She nodded and her face softened as she looked over to crumpled figure of Aileen. 

Her sobs filled the silent circled and many Warmaidens looked uncomfortable. Cassandra saw a few nudge each other and whisper. She was surprised that more haven’t spoken up about the situation but she guessed that none wanted to speak up until it was time to vote. 

It was hard to see them. Many of them were fading in and out out of the mist. As Aileen’s sobs increased so did the mist. It was pulsing. Like a heartbeat. It was enveloping them. Soon it was hard to see NioIna and Cora. 

Panic rising in her throat, Cassandra spun around, hoping that she’d be able to see Horace. Even he was hard to see. She grabbed his hand and clung onto him. 

A piercing wail, more like a scream echoed through the fog and Horace nearly pushed her in front of him. 

Cassandra clutched onto his side and tensed up, her eyes flickering around the scene around her. No one seemed super startled. With the fog or the scream. If she strained her eyes she could see the vague outline of a woman crouching over the crumpled form of Aileen and Cora. She wore an old fashioned dress with a tartan that didn’t match any of the current tartans. She looked up to Cassandra and Cassandra swore that she saw her give a sort of sad smile before disappearing back into the mist. 

Cassandra spent a couple of tense seconds with all she could hear was her own heartbeat as the fog startled to roll away and the sun filtered back into the scene. She dropped her arm from Horace’s side and tentatively stepped out. 

Cora gently helped Aileen to her feet. She looked shaky and pale, her first tightly clutching the ring. 

“Are you alright?” NioIna asked. 

“I saw,” Aileen shakily stopped talking. Her eyes flickered to the ground and back up. Cassandra was lost but others seemed to know what she was talking about. She stood up straight and pulled off her cloak, tossing it to the ground. “I have been blinded for so long, sisters. Unfortunately it took losing a son for me to realize. I move the counsel to vote to ostracize MacFrewin.” 

“Aileen, you sure? This shit’s permanent.” Deirdre looked aghast at the thought. Guess this wasn’t a common thing. 

Aileen attempted a glare at Deidre but she looked like she was going to cry. “I’m sure. The Araluen princess is right. If my husband does not face consequences he will continue to rampage. I used to think that it was an admirable trait but now I see that all it’ll being is destruction.” 

“If you say so. All in favour then?” NioIna looked a little troubled at the idea. 

Aileen rose her hand, as did Evanna and Deidre. There were a few others who hesitantly raised their hands. But not enough to have the majority. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

They were going to fail despite having Aileen on their side. 

NioIna sighed and rose her hand as well. 

They now had seven hands. They needed just one more. 

Time seemed to slow down, as Cassandra rapidly started counting the hands again. Still seven. Her heart plummeted and panic rose. What was going to happen to her if MacFrewin heard that she was trying to get rid of him. 

Cora’s face from across the circle mirrored Cassandra’s panic. Her home would be more affected if they failed. Shal was in the direct line of fire and it was all Cassandra’s fault. They put their lives on the line to help Cassandra and now she was going to fail them, she wasn’t persuasive enough. Shit. 

Finally, the woman on the left of Evanna slowly raised her hand. 

That was eight. They had the majority.   
  
The circle was silent for a couple of minutes, waiting to see if anyone else would raise their hand. Two more followed suit. 

“I guess that concludes the vote. Aileen, you are aware of what you need to do?” NioIna asked. 

“I do.” 

“Is there someone that you think is suitable to take over the position of Warlord for you clan? Do you need assistance from other clans in the removal of your husband from his title? Our priority is your safety.” 

Aileen shook her head. “My eldest, Hamish, he will rise to the occasion. I should be fine. Truly. I believe that we will need assistance trying to rebuild our clan.” 

“As the ones who brought this misfortune upon your clan, we will give assistance to you and your son,” Evanna offered. 

“Aye. As the sister clan, we’ll help out too. You lot don’t deserve this fate.” Deidre shrugged. 

Cassandra sighed and stepped forward again. “When I return home to my father, I will also speak with him to send aid, as we are rather responsible of your shortage of food.” 

“Thank you princess. Please forgive me for my son’s actions.” Aileen looked lost. Cassandra could only imagine how she was dealing with it. In the span of only a couple of minutes, she lost her son and her clan. 

“Warmaiden NioUna. I don’t blame you. I blame your husband and him poisoning your son’s mind. Hopefully together we can make new and better history.” Cassandra didn’t know if she believed it but a small part of her had a kernel of hope. 

“It will take time but from what we, as the council has seen and heard from a trusted general, it seems like the Royal House of Araluen are genuine this time. Even the Skandians we trade with speak highly of you, Princess Cassandra. And the Ranger Will Treaty and the Ranger Halt. Which is something, considering they’re Skandians.” Nina shook her head fondly. 

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. Of course Erak would come back around to help her out in some obscure way. “Oberjarl Erak is a dear friend of mine. If it was not for him, neither Will nor I would be here.” 

NioIna looked impressed with Cassandra. She schooled her face and looked around the council. “If there isn’t anything else, I suppose that the meeting is to be adjured.” 

The rest of Warmaidens shook their heads, some started to move away. 

“Wait!” Horace nervously made his way up to the front. 

“Yes, General Altman.” 

“I would like to preface that I’m not a hundred percent sure about this but I believe that the MacFleming Clan is still active.” 

The low buzz of whispers reached Cassandra’s ears again. 

“Is that so?” NioIna looked tentatively intrigued. 

“Yes, I have had contact with someone who passed along this to me.” Horace stepped out to pass a small pin to her. “And now that Warmaiden NioEvanna has become Baroness of Norgate, according to Warmaiden NioAila there has been a surge of Scotti culture around Norgate. It is possible that a clan has been reformed and that there might be a Warmaiden.” 

Everyone looked to the empty marker and that feeling of pain stabbed Cassandra in the back of the head again. 

“The missing Warmaiden.” NioIna stared at the pin in front of her. 

“If there is a clan, I believe that it is possible that we can set up some sort of structure that could allow the clan to have some power over their land. I have yet to speak about it to the king but I thought that I should let the counsel know.” 

NioIna sighed and clutched the pin tightly. “Thank you General Altman. For giving us hope.” 

“I’m sure that Baron Theo would gladly accept the clan on his land. He has been incredibly friendly to Scotti in the past and I, myself, will make sure that my father will agree to this if we can find a clan. As an apology for our past crimes.” Cassandra really shouldn’t be making promises like this but she was trying to grasp at anything to gain their favour. 

“Some advice princess, try not to make promises of such caliber, but the council does apprentice your vigour. It would be an honour to continue to do business with you,” the Warmaiden to the left of the empty marker spoke up. 

Yeah, Casandra should have expected that but it was kind of the Warmaiden to say that. 

“Maybe we should wait before putting such praise on the princess. Araluens have fallen through on promises before,” Another argued. 

“One meeting. Could we not go one meeting without devolving into a pretty argument,” Evanna muttered. Deidre grinned the same wolfish grin as her brother. 

“If this is the direction the council is going to go in, can we wrap it up here? The main points have been said and many of us have to get back to our own clans and our clan’s problems,” Deirdre drawled out. 

That got the two arguing Warmaidens to shut up. The flushed and slinked back to their spots. 

“Anything else?” Deirdre asked, standing up. “No? Alright. Aileen, send a message when you need any help. Evanna and I will answer. General Altman, same goes to you. If you need any help searching for the McFleming clan, just let us know. Lovely council meeting. No offence, but I hope not to see you guys for a while.” Deidre saluted the group and turned to march off. Evanna prepared to do the same.   
***  
It took forever but they finally made their way back down the hill. As they passed that stone archway, thankfully Cassandra didn’t see that figure. She didn’t know if she could handle it. That meeting had been mentally exhausting. It took everything from her. 

Cassandra nearly cried in relief when she saw the camp and the fire crackling and the smell of dinner cooking. 

“How’d the meeting go?” Halt asked, appearing out of almost out of the shadows. Frazer nearly jumped out of skin, scowling at Halt as he stumbled over to the fire. Will hurried over the group. 

“Give me like five seconds to get out this fucking kilt.” Horace groaned. Halt waved him off and Horace gleefully headed to his tent. 

Cassandra just tackled Halt into a hug. She honestly wished that she had his calming, yet strangely irate, nature with her. “You okay?” Halt asked, patting her back and trying soothe her. Cassandra just nodded. He guided her over to the fire and Cassandra sank onto a log and tried warm herself up. 

Evanna and Cora looked similarly exhausted. Kian passed Cora a cup of tea. She gave him a tired smile in return. 

“Council meetings tend to fucking drain people. They fucking suck.” Deidre appeared out of the woods, nearly stumbling back when Halt and Will on instinct drew their bows. The other soldiers went for their swords. 

Horace came stumbling out of his tent and addressed the situation in front of him. “Warmaiden, pleasure to see you.” He passed in front of Will and Halt’s drawn bows and sat next to Cassandra, rubbing his face clean of paint. 

“Hey, Altman.” Deidre approached the group. 

“My sister, everyone.” Evanna shook her head fondly, without looking over her shoulder. 

Halt and Will shouldered their bows. The rest of group relaxed and went back to their jobs. Lachlan passed out a round of tea to the returning group. It was nice to have a warm cup after such an exhausting day. 

“You did pretty good there princess. Thought you might cry at one point but you pulled through.” Deidre ruffled up Cassandra’s hair as she sat next to Evanna. Cassandra smiled tiredly at her. Kian’s head in the background shot up and started at Cassandra. She avoided his eye. 

“So?” Halt asked. 

“Well, Aileen had a breakdown when she realized that her asshole of a husband sent her youngest to the gallows and then she convinced the rest of the council to ostracize him, and and the general here said that our missing clan might still be active. It was a whirlwind. I do feel sorry for Aileen though. It was heartbreaking.” 

Evanna agreed.   
  
“So the MacFrewin clan is over?” Emmet asked, frowning heavily.

“Yeah, Warmaiden NioUna said that she believed that her son Hamish would step up for the role.” Horace sipped his tea. 

“Isn’t that still a problem? I mean it was his son who tried to kill Cassandra.” Will asked. 

Evanna shook her head. “No, Hamish has never really been one to follow his father’s footsteps.” Deidre scratched her chin and frowned at the fire. “He straight up hates his old man. Joined the city guard so that he wouldn’t have to serve under his old man. Aileen chose best.” 

“Shit. I can’t believe that I actually lived through a warlord, actually anyone, being ostracized. You never think that you’d live through something like this.” Lachlan looked troubled at the thought. 

Cassandra looked up to Horace, knowing that he felt like he had gone through the process. He just stared at the fire in front of him. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about this. It was rather tragic to be cast aside like that, even though he did try to kill me,” Cassandra muttered. 

“So you are the princess?” Frazer asked. Lachlan looked intrigued from his little perch by the fire. Kian just refused to look at her. Emmet just quietly drank his tea, covered in the shadows. 

Halt grumbled quietly and Will’s hand discreetly went to his belt. 

“I am. I’m sorry for deceiving you but considering the events that led me to coming here, we figured that it’d be the safest options. 

“Our priority was keeping her safe. I trust you guys but, you know, she is the princess and I’d like to keep my head,” Horace mumbled. 

“Not mad at all. I get why. You’ve got a decent head.” Frazer nudged Horace and Horace rolled his eyes as Deidre let out a bark of laughter and chatter with Evanna in their native language. 

“Wait! Did you know?” Lachlan turned to Emmet who looked a little spooked. 

Emmet carefully shrugged. “Yes. I worked in the castle and I recognized the princess. Just because I never interacted with the Royal family doesn’t mean that I never saw them. Do you know many parties I had to guard? No offence, your majesty.” His eyes flickered over to Cassandra. 

She held up her hands. She liked organizing the parties, she never really liked attending them. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t be throwing her title around like this all willy nilly. Just because MacFrewin isn’t a threat, doesn’t mean there aren’t others around who wish to harm Evanlyn,” Will said quietly. 

“Will’s right. I’m going to go do a patrol. We can’t afford to get sloppy.” Horace stood up and passed his mug over to Lachlan. He picked up his sword and went off into the darkness. 

How the fuck did he have the energy? Cassandra yawned and rubbed her eyes. 

“Boss is right, damn him. I’ll go patrol too.” Frazer stood up and walked off. 

Deidra shambled to her feet. “I should probably get back my camp before McHarry goes nuts. Lovely talking to you Evanna. You too Cora. Try not to get stabbed again. As much as I love to see my brother fret, it’s not worth your wellbeing.” She messed up Cora’s hair. 

“Yes auntie.” Cora yawned and returned the smile. 

“Tata for now!” Deidre waved her hand dramatically and then disappeared into the dark forest.

“Is she always like that?” Lachlan asked Evanna. 

She sniffled and rolled her eyes fondly. “If you think that McAngus is wild then you have yet to know his sister. He is the more rational of the two. But then, the years have calmed Deidre down a little.” 

Cassandra could picture that. 

“I’m going to wash this paint off. It’s itchy.” Cora stood up and started to march over to the small creek that they camped next too.

Cassandra just wanted to go to bed. 

“You alright?” Halt asked. 

“Yeah, I think I’m going to turn in for the night. I’m tired.” 

“You did good, kid.” He mussed her hair up and Cassandra gave him a tired smile. She yawned as she stumbled over to her tent. 

Halfway to her tent, she saw Cora’s small figure by the creek. She sighed and made her way over to Cora. “You need help?” Cassandra asked, approaching. 

Cora’s head shot up and Cassandra could see the fire in the distance in her eyes. Cora nodded and turned back to the washcloth in her hands. Cassandra took the washcloth from Cora and gently rubbed the paint off of her face. 

“Are you mad at Kian? Because I think he thinks you are.” Cora asked after a small silence. 

Out of everyone who made comments about Cassandra, Kian’s comments last night weren’t the worst. It was weird hearing people talking about her without them knowing it was her. 

“I know don’t know. It wasn’t fun hearing people talk about me like that but considering that one of my own lords just tried to kill me and that Kian, who’s from a country who for awhile that hates me, he strangely complimented me in a bit of a roundabout way.” 

“Hm.” Cora closed her eyes as Cassandra gently scrubbed around her eyes. “Yeah I can see what you’re saying. I’m sorry that he did that. It was gross. I tried to defuse it.” 

“Thank you. I noticed.” 

Cassandra finally finished scrubbing off of the paint of Cora’s face. Her face was a little red but it was clean. Cora looked as tired as Cassandra felt. “I felt terrible for Aileen. Mom talked about her a lot and she always just ended with a defeated look. I mean, I can’t say for certain but if MacFrewin acts like that to us, what’s he like at home?” 

Cassandra hadn’t thought about that, it sickened her to think but it wasn’t a stretch. “You think if he was going to pull that, he’d let her know so she’d be able to defend him better. Or know hire a Genovesan Assassin. Out of all of the attempts on my life, this was the most sloppy.” 

“I can’t believe that you have enough life experience of this to rate assassination attempts.” Cora scoffed. 

“That’s what I like about Scotti culture. You guys are rather forthright. No sneaking around.” 

Cora undid a braid and shrugged. “Yeah, but there’s a lot of old grudges that no one seems to get rid of and no one tactfully hides them. It’s rather annoying.” 

“Gross.” 

Cora giggled and nodded. “Come on, let’s go to bed. That meeting took the wind out of me.”

They shared a tent, which was nice because she felt so vulnerable sleeping in a tent alone. With Cora, Cassandra felt safer than with just herself, alone. 

“Let’s.” 

They quickly did their bedtime routine and headed to their tent. 

Cassandra looped her arm through Cora’s. “Thank you for helping me. It means a lot to me.” 

“Cassandra, you’re my friend. For fuck’s sake, I got stabbed trying to save you. Or course I’m helping you out. Now do you think that Horace will let us go home tomorrow? This place freaks the fuck out of me.” 

“Let’s hope.” 

“I mean, I know that it’s a sacred site for us but it gives me the shivers. I guess that’s why everyone was encouraged to go around the hill, way around the hill, when traveling. Eh.” Cora shrugged and crouched as she got into the tent. 

“Night Cora.” Cassandra collapsed onto the ground and sighed. 

“Night Cassandra.” 


	19. Chapter 19

Cassandra woke early the next morning. Early, as it was still dark in the morning. She quietly stepped out of the tent and headed to the slowly dying fire. While trying to keep her cloak wrapped tightly around her, she tried to stoke the fire to warm herself more. 

She yawned and shuffled on the log a little, the early spring snow damp around her boots. 

“You’re up early.” Kian’s soft voice snapped her to attention. He looked like he was on guard, his sword strapped to his side and he was leaning on a spear. Soft fur lined the inside of his braces and around his belt. He looked warm. 

Cassandra shrugged and looked back to the fire. “Couldn’t fall back asleep. You on guard alone?” 

“Nah, the grumpy Ranger somewhere in the woods behind us.” Kian gestured to the woods behind him. 

“He has a name you know.” 

“When he stops scowling at me as an answer, I’ll call him by his name,” Kian grumbled. 

Cassandra rolled her eyes. Stubborn idiots. “Call him by his name and he’ll stop scowling at you as an answer.” 

“So we are at an impasse.” Kian tossed a scowl into the distance. 

She turned to hide a yawn and they settled into silence, watching as the world around them seemed to wake up. The deep shadows of the trees seemed to lesson as Cassandra could feel the weak sun on her back. 

Kian shambled over to her and sat a little further down from her. “Sorry about the comments the other night. I shouldn’t have. My mouth tends to work faster than my brain and I just shouldn’t have said it.” 

It seemed like he was trying to force out the words but that he actually meant it. There was a mixture of anguish and disgust on his face. 

Cassandra shook her head and looked over to him. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.”   
  
He perked up a little. A little quirk that reminded her of Cora sometimes. 

A second later he slumped down in his seat. “I know that this is a bad time but do you Araluen girls have any specific things that you want guys to do? Doubt that Cora’s going to stick around Shal around much longer and gotta do something soon.” 

“Give her good a reason and she’ll stay, Kian. It’s plain and simple.” Kian made a face, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

“Of course I have to talk. I’m no good with words. Couldn’t just give her a shiny rock or something and be done with it,” he grumbled. 

“A shiny rock will help, but yes, you need to use your voice.” She gently poked him. 

Kian grumbled more and crossed his arms. 

“I mean, I think it wouldn’t be too hard to convince her.” Cassandra knocked a shoulder against his. He gave her a weak smile.   
  
She fiddled with the water skin that was almost empty. They’d probably be leaving soon, Horace, Will and Halt would probably want to get away from here as soon as possible. 

“I’m going to go fill this up.” Cassandra stood up. Kian tossed her a thumbs up as he got back up to get back to patrol. 

The creek water was cold and gurgling softly as Cassandra crouched down to fill the water. It was rather peaceful out here. Even though she sat times was rather still, she still felt like she was being pushed around. Get to one place and the next, a constant move, move, move. Now, she felt like she could take her time doing things. 

Cassandra corked the water skin and made her way up. Half way up she heard Kian talking to someone “—like your girlfriend man. She’s pretty cool.” Then Horace’s voice picked up. “Duh. Why do you think I’m dating her? She’s the coolest person I know.” 

She could help but grin, her cheeks going red. He thought she was cool. She felt like she was a blushing ten year old again. She tapped her cheeks until she got her smiling under control. 

Horace was the first to notice her. He perked up and smiled at her, he looked tired but happy. “Hey princess.” 

“I thought that Halt told us not to call me that?” Cassandra put down the water skin and hugged him hello. She felt cozy in the crook of his arms. 

“I did.” Kian cursed when Halt stepped out of the shadows. “I suggest we don’t leave for awhile. I passed a couple of groups on the way out here. Don’t want to get tangled up with them.” 

“I wasn’t planning to leave until tomorrow anyways.” 

“Good. I’m going to make coffee.” Halt sat at the fire and busied himself with making coffee. 

Kian shrugged off Halt appearing out of thin air. “Creepy asshole.” 

“Heard that.” 

Kian made a face and shook his head. 

She didn’t want to get into this so she just sat on one of the logs. A second later Horace’s weight dropped onto her. “Hello,” he murmured. Cassandra gently patted his face.   
***  
Cassandra was leaving in the morning, Halt was very intent on getting out before MacFrewin found out that Cassandra was in Shal. She didn’t want to leave Horace. She knew that he was going to come back but she didn’t want to wait for him to come back. He was in danger once MacFrewin started throwing his tantrum. She didn’t want him to get hurt. 

She couldn’t help him if she were about two weeks’ ride away. She just wanted to steal him away and protect him. She glared at the dark ceiling in front of her, her heart beating annoyingly loud in her ears. Dinner had been too rushed and too many people were around to talk to Horace properly. She should talk to him before they go. Just talk and be a couple before they had to go their separate ways. 

Enough of this wallowing. She was going to go talk to him and do what she wanted. She couldn’t be damned. Halt be damned. 

He’d probably know anyways, it wasn’t like she was a master at sneaking out. Whatever. Cassandra pulled her cloak, that she should probably return to Horace anyways, on and quietly as possible left the house. 

The streets of Shal were silent and dark which was great for her. She was able to pass across the village without any interruptions. 

Horace’s sleepy little cottage still had a fire going on inside. 

Her small knock seemed deafening at night. 

The door scraped open and the sleepy form of Horace was bathed in soft candlelight. “Was wondering when you’d show up.” He grinned devilishly. 

“Am I really that predictable?” Cassandra accused. 

“Just to me.” Horace moved to let her in. “Any reason for this midnight escapade or did you just want to see my pretty face?” 

Cassandra pulled off her cloak and put it on the back of the couch. “We’re leaving tomorrow and I…” She eagerly grabbed onto him as he held out his arms. It had been only a few months with him, he changed her life. She didn’t know if this was saying too much but he felt like her better half. “I’m going to miss you. I don’t want to leave you.” 

“It won’t be long,” Horace tried to assure her. Cassandra dug her head into the rook of his shoulder and refused to let go of him. He hugged her back and hummed softly. 

“I’m just worried. I can’t help you if I’m in Araluen.” 

Horace pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be safe. Kian will make sure to that. I feel like I should be worried?” 

Cassandra snorted and wiped her eyes after breaking the hug. “Don’t be. He’s trying to summon the courage to ask Cora out.” 

“Interesting.” Horace had a childish smirk as he sat on the couch. Cassandra curled up next to him and sighed. She was going to miss this. Horace honestly just being so warm. She felt wrapped up in a mountain of blankets. 

“It’s just, I feel useless. Here I am leaving you here where there’s turmoil and I’m going back to safety. I’m going to worry and…and I’m going to be selfish I don’t want to leave you. I’m going to miss you and all that stupid sappy shit.” 

Horace sat up and took Cassandra’s hands. “It’s not selfish to feel those things. I don’t want to leave you either but my clan, my family needs me. It won’t be long, I promise.” 

Cassandra made a face. She understood what he was talking about but she didn’t have to like it.   
“You’re cute when you pout.” Horace wrapped his arms around her. She crossed her arms and glared vaguely into the distance. “Besides, it’d be hard to come up with a reason to go back to Araluen if I don’t have anything to negotiate with your father.” 

“I know! Ugh, I’m just going to miss you.” 

“I’m touched. I didn’t know you were such a sap.” 

Cassandra threw a pillow at him. Horace ducked and the pillow sailed over him. 

He cackled and got up, tossing the pillow back at her. Unfortunately, he had good aim and hit Cassandra. “I’ll be right back, give me a second.” She didn’t know if he was hiding from her pillow attack or he getting something. If he was, then what the fuck was he getting? 

Her question was answered when Horace came back out, tossing something onto her. Cassandra sputtered as she batted it away from her face. “Asshole.” 

“Payback.” Horace leaned across the couch and stole a kiss from her. 

“You already got payback,” Cassandra grumbled, looking to what was in her hands. It looked like a tartan but was lined with fur on one side and had no hood. Very against usual Scotti fashion. 

“It used to be my old cloak, until I grew out of it. Mia turned it into a blanket for me. I know it’s not exactly what you meant when you said that you wanted to be wearing my cloak and all but it’s something to keep you company when I’m gone.” 

Cassandra’s tears started watering. That was so incredibly sweet. So sweet in fact that she was speechless. 

“You okay?” Horace squeezed her knee. 

“Yeah, I don’t have anything to give you.” Cassandra wiped her eyes. 

“You don’t have too. I’ve got plenty to remember you by.” Horace took one of her hands. 

“God you’re such a sap.” Cassandra laughed, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t know what else to say. She clutched the blanket in her hand tightly, not sure what to do. 

“Aw, come here princess.” Horace scooped her up and tucked her next to him. Cassandra curled her legs up to her chest and dropped her head on his shoulder. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, okay?” 

“Okay,” she hummed, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment.   
***  
The cold morning almost hurt Cassandra. They left early. Aila and Cora had elected to stay in Shal with their family alongside Horace to help repair relations, and the cold bit at Cassandra. She hid in her cloak and watched Horace as they rode quietly. They hadn’t spoken much in the morning, Horace sending her guilty looks, which certainly didn’t help her not feel like absolute shit..

Will just looked amused at the pair of them, riding beside Cassandra and innocently asked her where she had disappeared last night. Cassandra had never related so much to Halt at this moment. She just elected to glare at him and go back to moping. 

No one spoke, silence was starting to weigh on Cassandra’s shoulders. 

She could see the edge of the forest now, the border between Picta and Araluen, the place that they would separate. At least she’d be safe, well safer that in Picta, in Araluen. 

Horace pulled Kicker to a stop less than a couple of paces from the edge of the forest. “Something wrong?” Halt asked, raising an eyebrow at Horace. 

“Could you give us a second? Please?” Horace mumbled, his face flushed red and couldn’t look Halt in the eye. By proxy, Cassandra’s face heated up. She pulled her cloak up to her nose to hide her cheeks. 

Halt looked a little resistant to the idea but Will nudged Tug up to Halt. “Come on Halt, they’re not going to see each other for awhile. What if it was you and Pauline?” 

Halt looked over from Horace to Cassandra. His face softened. “Ten minutes, you two. Then I’m coming back, no matter what shenanigans you two are up too.” He smirked as Horace opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. He and Will rode off through the trees. 

“Not how I wanted this to go but okay,” Horace mumbled, shaking his head as he slid off of Kicker. He held out a hand to help Cassandra. She took it, getting off of Rosie and landed with a soft thump on the ground. 

She couldn’t help but smile at his blush. She might be bright red but there was just something about him that made him so adorable when he floundered for the words. 

Horace ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve got something else for you, I didn’t think about it last night.” 

“Horace, you don’t need to give me anything else. The blanket is wonderful and I still haven’t given you anything.” Cassandra felt terrible. Here was Horace lavishing things on her and she had nothing to return. 

“You don’t need too. Scotti don’t place value on objects. We place value on the memories. You’ve given me plenty. But it is a tradition for a boyfriend to give his girlfriend one of these.” Horace pressed a small idol into her hand that he had picked up. 

Cassandra turned the idol around. The goddess had soft round cheeks and hair that had flowers braided into it. She didn’t know how but the artist who made her managed to capture that whimsical look that girls sometimes gave their boyfriends when they didn’t that their boyfriends where looking. “Who is she?” 

“Bunneas, goddess of love. I’ve also got Koris and Gethys with me if you want to take them. For protection.” Horace looked up at her through his eyelashes. She didn’t really believe in gods, but Horace did and she bet that he’d feel a lot better if she took them. 

“Of course.” His lips were cold when she kissed him. She watched as he turned to his saddle and pulled out two more worn idols. He helped her pack them, even though it wasn’t necessary. “Thank you.” 

“Mhm.” Horace pulled her back to him. She could see the forming of tears in his eyes. She sniffled and hugged him, holding him tightly. It won’t be long. It won’t be long. He’ll be back before she would know. 

Slowly, she extracted herself from him and stared up at him. Neither of them wanted to talk. If she did, then she’d start crying.   
“Actually one last thing.” Horace pulled off his necklace and delicately placed it around her neck. 

Cassandra picked up the necklace. Her heart did a somersault. “Horace,” she whispered. 

Horace closed her fist around the necklace. The cold metal of the ring stung against her skin. “It’s a promise that I’ll come back.” His voice broke and she could see tears. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He wiped his eyes and grabbed Kicker’s reins. “Let's get back to the others. So Halt doesn’t murder us,” he half-heartedly tried to joke. 

Cassandra grabbed his hand, turning back to him and pulled him down for a kiss. They were desperate, knowing that this was going to be the last time in a while that they were going to see each other. 

There was a ghost of a smile on his face when they broke apart. She smiled back at him. 

They lingered there in that moment for a couple more seconds then slowly and regretfully got back onto their horses. 

Cassandra was very aware of the weight of the ring against her chest. She clutched the ring and followed Horace. Will and Halt were waiting at the edge. 

“I guess that this is goodbye.” Horace wiped his eyes and painfully smiled at the duo. “So, Halt, don’t be an asshole. I know that it’ll be hard but you can do it. And Will, thanks for being a good friend. I’ll see you guys in a couple of months.” 

Halt clapped Horace on a shoulder. “See you in a bit, son. You’re a good kid.” 

Horace grinned at Halt. “I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve heard you say.” 

“Don’t push it.” Cassandra smothered her giggles in her hand. Halt rolled his eyes but she could see his smile. 

Will looked like he was going to burst out in tears. “Aw, I’ll see you man. Come here.” They awkwardly hugged while still on their horses. 

Horace wiped his eyes as they broke the hug. “Take care.” 

“We will.” Halt assured him. 

They slowly pulled themselves, lots of tears included on Cassandra’s side, away and towards Mainclaw. Will trotted next to Cassandra. “So what did he give you?” He asked. 

Cassandra clutched on to the ring, and looked over her shoulder to the forest. They had made some decent distance already and Horace was just a smudge in her blurry vision. He stood there, watching them go. God, she couldn’t imagine how that would feel on his end. She sniffled and turned back to Will. “I’ll tell you when we get back to Mainclaw.” He nodded and fell silent. 

God, what a whirlwind this has been. If she told herself from last year that she was dating a Scotti General, Cassandra wouldn’t believe it. She shook her head fondly and followed Halt. 


	20. Two Months Later...

Horace sat on top of Kicker, swaying back and forth, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He’d been riding for days, self-sacrificing rest for time, pushing himself hard and long into the night to make it to Castle Araluen and now he could see it. 

Those tall gleaming white walls acting as pillars to the gods. 

A small grin appeared on his face. It had been too long since he’s seen those walls and who lived within them. 

The city bustled around him as he tiredly trotted through it, last time he had come through here he felt so uncomfortable with the stares directed at him. Now, he was just too excited to really even care. 

He clattered into the main courtyard, waving to the guards that he had gotten to know, and passed off his reins to a stable hand. He’d come collect his things later. He had more pressing matters to deal with. 

Horace stumbled out of the stables with his buckler and sword still strapped him, pulling off his riding gloves and grinning. 

“Horace!” Horace turned his head to the source of the voice. 

Coming into the main courtyard was King Duncan, in stride next to him was a tall, burly man with a horned helmet. He had no idea why a Skandian was here but he was. 

“Your majesty, sir. Good too see you.” Horace held out a hand and King Duncan took it. Horace had no idea if Cassandra had told him about them or not but King Duncan looked pleased to see him so that was a win. 

“Good to see you too. How are things in Picta? With the McEuan clan?” 

Most of the former MacFrewin clan had joined Hamish when he laid claim to the title of Warlord with Aileen as Warmaiden for him. There had been a few to join his father in exile, raiding other clans for food but their numbers dwindled quickly. 

“Good. They’re still small and struggling to get their footing but the resources that you sent helped us lots. So thank you from both Warlord MacAngus and Warmaiden NioLyall and Warlord McEuan.” 

King Duncan’s smile got wider. “Glad to know that it helped. Horace this is Oberjarl Erak, Erak this is General Altman of the McAngus clan.” The big bulky man squinted at Horace. “You ain’t the asshole that gave Nils that cursed bagpipe? He’s been hollering up and down Hallasholm ever since he’s gotten back.” 

Horace sighed, pressing his lips tightly together. “He’s still at it, eh? I was hoping that he’d give up. And no. I distinctly remember threatening to shit in his helmet if he continued. If you do see him sometime soon, could you give him a swift kick for me?” 

“Aye.” Erak had a gleam in his eyes that made Horace worried but excited at the same time. He clapped Horace on the shoulder, which made his knees buckle a little. “McAngus clan. I don’t know that one. Have we met before?” 

“Doubt it. We and our sister clan control the border with Araluen, we’re surrounded by mountains and forest. You’d know the McFergus clan, they control the East coast.” 

“Ah.” Erak nodded and scratched his chin. 

Horace grinned and turned back to King Duncan. “So, have I missed anything?” 

“No, nothing thankfully. It’s been quiet.” 

“That’s good.” 

Horace had been worried sick for Cassandra with him being gone and not being there to be able to have her back, so he let out a small sigh of relief. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw George and Cora exiting the building talking rapidly with each other with animated smiles. George had come to Shal on behalf of the king to start working out a treaty with the king. He had come and gone a couple of times over the months. Each time like clockwork, both Cora and Kian would get all sad and retreat to the dining hall to brood over drinks. Horace didn’t want to say that the three of them were together but it seemed like they were. 

Cora perked up when she saw Horace and waved. Horace waved back. 

She seemed happy. 

Horace turned back to speak with King Duncan when he heard a squeal and then was promptly tackled into a hug. “Umph!” He grunted a small force slammed into him, sending him back a couple of paces. Light brown curls filled his vision. 

“You’re back!” Cassandra yelled gleefully. 

“Hi princess.” Horace chuckled, his hand cupped the back of her head and held on. Gods, he’s missed her. He sighed contently and held on. He had told her that he’d be fine, that it wouldn’t be long. Yes, while the Scotti didn’t place much value on material things, Horace liked too. He kept his mother’s ring that was supposed to be burnt with her body and the graves. He missed her. He wished he had something to hold to of hers. It was fine, truly. He was here now and he managed to work through it. Cassandra at the time needed something. 

“Hi!” She dropped from the hug and gave him a dazzling smile. He was enchanted. 

“So princess. Who’s this?” Erak hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and peered at Horace. 

Oh shit. 

Horace looked to King Duncan who had an amused smile on while regarding the scene in front of him. His smile grew when he noticed Horace looking. Okay, so she did tell her dad. Thank god. 

Shit. 

Cassandra mentioned that Erak was a good friend of hers. Shit. 

“Oh! Erak this is my boyfriend. Horace.” Cassandra took Horace’s hand and gave Erak a nervous smile.   
  
“Boyfriend, eh?” Erak peered down at Horace. Horace really didn’t want to be here right now. Shit. 

“Yes.” Horace’s eyes flicker over to King Duncan who just seemed to be enjoying Erak giving Horace a threatening look.

“Well, we’ll have to have a talk later, then.” Erak looked like he was trying to pass gas or something. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say, Halt has probably said the same thing and no offence sir, but I’m more terrified of him and any other Ranger than you. No offence, I’m sure you’re a great warrior and all but…”

“They’ve got some sort of black magic going on,” Erak agreed. 

“This is all very interesting but do you two absolutely need Horace right now?” Cassandra asked, sounding rather impatient. Horace didn’t know if she was doing this on purpose or not but, she stuck out her lower lip and pulled the puppy dog act on her father. 

“Go. I’m sure Erak can survive without tormenting your boyfriend.” King Duncan shooed them away. 

Cassandra grinned and pulled Horace away. Horace obediently trotted after her. When they reached the closest empty room, Cassandra pulled him in. 

Horace giggled and roped her in. “Hi princess,” he whispered. Her grin was mesmerizing.   
  
“Hi,” she whispered back. 

Gods, he missed her. Horace tangled his hand in her hair and kissed her. Being in this empty room, with his pretty blushing girlfriend, he felt like a little kid again, sneaking away from whatever assignment he had. 

“Looks like you missed me.” Horace grinned as they broke the kiss. 

“Shut up.” She scrunched up her nose at him. 

Horace chuckled tiredly, sitting, no more like collapsing, on a table and lazily took her hand. “As grouchy as ever,” he joked. She rolled her eyes and brushed his, now trimmed, hair out of his face. He smiled when he saw the small ring around her neck. “You wore it.” 

“Everyday. And the statues are on my mantel. And sleep with the blanket. I told you, I miss you.” 

“Such a sap. Come here.” Horace pulled her over to him, resting his head on her shoulder, smiling softly. She was wearing blue. 

His lady in blue. 

It was good to be back.


End file.
